


Auburn on the Mountain

by DearWriter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha Lexa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Angst and Humor, Anya/Clarke Brotp all the way, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Omega Clarke, Omega Verse, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 83,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearWriter/pseuds/DearWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cast out from her home on the Ark, Clarke Griffin crash lands in Trikru territory where she accidentally initiates a sacred ritual of the grounder wolves. Clarke slowly learns to adapt to this strange new world by embracing her dormant instincts and allowing them to guide her as a thriving wolf and an Omega. </p><p>SLOW BURN. Slightly AU. Story driven. Involves politics and world building. Focuses more on the 12 clans / Polis and less on the Ark cause I'm bored as shit with that place.</p><p>(Be Aware: some favorites may seem OOC due to A/B/O aspects. Will add more tags as they appear.)</p><p>OFFICIALLY ON HIATUS. NOT ABANDONED.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

So this is my first written work. Woop there it is. I've latched onto the A/B/O universe after reading a few from the 100 fandom, and thought I'd give it a try. No Beta so if it's crap and the grammar is weird that's all on me. I'm hoping some of you will point out when something sounds iffy or doesn't make sense because after reading it so many times everything starts to bleed together.

Warning: This first chapter may have hints of dub/con due to all that's tied into the A/B/O universe, but nothing happens.

(So far I have three chapters written out, and I'll upload chapter two later tonight.)

* * *

 

 

**One**

 

It’s the first time Clarke has shifted on Earth. It’s the first time she has been able to shift and she can’t even remember how she did it. It’s the first time she’s shifted and now she’s being hunted, and damn does that just figure to be her luck these days. 

Two weeks ago Clarke found herself stumbling out from an escape pod, bleeding and a bit concussed - finding the world which seemed much too bright with all its sounds and smells completely overwhelming. Clarke grasped at the silver watch on her wrist, twisting it against her flesh a few times before black spots invaded her sight. She fainted inside her pod, finally allowing her inner beast to take over and heal her body the best it knew how - by shutting down.

 

When she awoke days later, her wounds were almost mended, save for one or two broken ribs, and her senses seemed sharper than before. The wet smell of the grass outside and the musty odor of the aged bark, now charred from her landing, invaded her nose. The air was crisp and clean, so unlike the almost stale recycled flow pumped throughout the Ark. Clarke could not stop gulping the air down despite the pain in her ribcage, feeling it filter and cling to her nose - pervade into her expanding lungs and exhale out once again. Delicious.

Her eyes darted from one source of curiosity to the next: a bird (yes an ACTUAL bird), then to the wind blowing through leaves on an old gnarled tree, to the snap of a branch by a skittish rabbit, to the clear blue of the sky filled by the warming light of the sun. Earth was truly amazing, and could fortunately sustain life. The Ark's gamble had paid off.

 

Clarke was alive.

 

Clarke was alone.

 

She missed Wells' kind smile, and Raven's sarcastic barbs. She missed her bed and her unit home, but most of all she desperately missed her father. She missed his muted scent and his comforting presence. He would never have willingly let this happen to her, not like her Mother had - who Clarke grudgingly missed as well.

Her father would have known what to do. He had been half way across the space station when the guard came to collect her. Her mother had just stood there with a regretful, horrified look upon her face. Frozen with her white knuckles twisted in her medical coat as her eyes averted from her daughter's pleading gaze and cries for help.

 

Clarke hated her mother in that moment. Viciously. She was still confused by everything, but her anger at her mother's inaction was a striking method to get her blood pumping. She still had no idea why she had been sedated and forcibly ejected from the Ark in an escape pod.

 

Clarke tended to her wounds and spent her time healing by passing the hours just watching the routine of things: the traveling shadows upon the ground, the line of ants imperially marching one by one as they carried pieces of some kind of insect back to their nest. Everything had its time and order on Earth, and until Clarke’s stomach roared its own time for attention, the blonde had been satisfied to keep her quiet watch. Thankfully the resources sent down with her pod had still been intact, and her hunger was mollified and her strength slowly replenished. Her provisions were few and only lasted a week even with her rationing them. She was forced despite her protesting injuries to find a source of water and food if she wanted to stay alive.

 

* * *

 

 

This search for water is what led her to this current predicament - to being chased down like some franticly pathetic prey in one of the Ark’s ancient Earth skill’s National Geographic’s; barreling through brush and leaping over fallen logs as if her life depended on it.

It probably did.

One moment she was filling a canteen in a nearby stream to cool her heated throat with the moon's light overhead, and the next her gaze was locked onto two vibrant green eyes hidden in the brush as a thunderous growl met her ears. With the speed of sheer panic, she had taken off into a sprint - not even realizing her form had changed shape until she smelt the pungent odor of others moving around in the forest; her nose burning and causing her to stumble into the woods.

 

Clarke raced through the trees, certain her pursuers were only toying with her now as she was almost positive she had run past a familiar twisted oak one too many times. Still shocked to even have pursuers, she ran as fast as her feet—now paws, could take her. Her white fur streaking through the leafy green like a comet through the sky. No matter her speed, she remained a bit uncoordinated, took turns too sharply, and misjudged distances - slamming her roughly into rock and bark alike.

Eventually, sweating and exhausted, she fumbled over a raised root and tumbled down into a grassy clearing. Panting for momentary relief of her burning lungs, she managed to stand up on shaking legs. Clarke suddenly took the brunt of a strike to her side, sending her sprawling across the ground to land in yelping a heap.

           

The first thing that hits Clarke as her head stops spinning is the powerful scent; her senses are smothered by the smell of the morning rain and lush buddings of the wood. It wafts off of this menacing wolf now standing over her with each twitch of its flattened ears or deep exhalation of its thundering chest. Its coat is dark and full, almost black as it reflects the glint from the moonlight shining down through the branches of the woods above. The scent screams Alpha and Clarke’s nose almost on fire with this wolf’s intense musk. Is this what Alphas are supposed to smell like? This Alpha with piercing jade eyes, snarling fiercely above Clarke - bares its deadly teeth.

 

_Submit. Now._

Clarke can do nothing but stare back. She doesn’t understand how her body knows this command, how it can hear it and want to give into it - to simply obey. Clarke’s instinct is telling her to roll her head to the side and present the snow white fur of her neck to this Alpha. Clarke’s instinct is to submit—and it scares the hell out of her. She feels trapped in a foreign body, and the inability to control her own skin is well on the way to causing a panic attack. With a strength she didn’t know she had, Clarke bares her own teeth and lets loose a feral growl up through her throat.

The Alpha’s eyes above her widen and for a moment it seems the Alpha is temporarily in shock. Once Clarke’s full growl reaches the Alpha, a flood of dominant pheromones blasts through the air and knock into Clarke, making her heart race and her breathing come out in short pants as she struggles to keep her mind clear in the face of this Alpha’s scent. The command is deafening in its clarity.

 

_SUBMIT._

 

The Alpha’s eyes watch intently as the white wolf below resists the order, shifting with the effort to keep the soft fur of her neck covered and protected. As impressed as the Alpha is, this is the dark wolf’s territory and the Alpha will not be denied this submission. Without so much as another warning, the Alpha snarls and darts forward, clamping large jaws around the underside of the white wolf’s neck.

Clarke jumps in alarm as the sharp points of canines graze the soft flesh of her neck and her pulse beats erratically against the Alpha’s hold. Clarke’s surprise causes a wrench of her limbs against the large wolf. The Alpha growls acutely in her chest and the jaws tighten.

 

Clarke is panicking; she can feel her inner wolf snarling at her to attack, to get free, to run and keep running but Clarke knows with this Alpha chasing her she wouldn’t make it very far even if she could get out of the jaws immobilizing her. Plus, her body won’t stop trembling, and she knows it won’t be long before she feels the prick of canines beginning to sink into her neck. The scent of her own blood spooks Clarke out of her thoughts and her body jerks violently as though an electric shock has passed through every synapse in her skin.

Clarke hears herself whine against the hold as she feels a hot, stifling sensation creep up the line of her spine as something tight and unyielding snaps inside her belly. Abruptly, she stretches out her neck and lays flat on her back, presenting the gleaming white of her stomach and throat.

 

Complete submission.

 

The Alpha is still growling but upon seeing Clarke’s capitulation, the ample growl turns into a low rumble against Clarke’s belly. Clarke whines louder as her body reacts to the over abundance of Alpha pheromones pushing fixedly into her senses. She can smell her own heated pheromones reacting to this Alpha, seeping through the air of the clearing and creating a cloud around them.

Clarke feels the Alpha immediately freeze over her and the dark wolf shifts to purposefully inhale a lungful against the underside of Clarke’s neck where her scent is strongest. Powerful shudders course through the Alpha’s muscles as though pleased with this discovery, and Clarke attempts to remain motionless.

The Alpha’s chest continues to steadily rumble, and Clarke can now feel it vibrating through her entire being. She feels like her body is on fire and she needs something - something to desperately grasp to ground her lest she fall into the urges of her wolf. Clarke mewls softly against her captive as she feels a strange shift in the air settle against their fur. She can feel the strong musk of the Alpha sliding against her nose and it now seems so inviting. Clarke wonders if the Alpha can sense her fear and confusion, her wariness and ultimately the fresh and suffocating need rolling off from her body in waves.

 

The press of the Alpha above Clarke starts to feel comforting instead of overbearing, the dominant scent becoming something tactile and Clarke wants nothing more than to taste it on her tongue, and scrape it under her teeth. She hates herself for it; she hates her body’s instinct in this moment. She’s frightened and she doesn’t understand, but she keens and whines.

The Alpha allows Clarke to shift her body onto her side before the larger wolf lowers itself to rest firmly against Clarke’s squirming body. The heavy weight of the Alpha is welcome and sends Clarke into a twisting mess. The canines still wrapped around Clarke’s throat ease and adjust but do not release her from their possessive hold. Clarke’s whimpers grow in volume as her trembling evolves into shaking.

She can’t stop the onslaught of the fire blazing under her skin, she can’t stop the burning spreading through her blood or the clench of her lower abdominal muscles as an unfamiliar ache begins to make itself known. The low rumbling from the Alpha turns into a deep resounding purr and Clarke can’t stop herself from relaxing despite being held by an Alpha she knows nothing about.

 

A sudden chorus of howls break through the night air and causes both wolves to start slightly. The trampling of leaves and the heavy breathes of running bodies in the distance cause Clarke to whine lowly in question as the Alpha grips onto her neck more firmly. The foreign scents of numerous wolves slowly approach the clearing where the pair rest. The Alpha does not appear threatened but Clarke begins to twist and violently shake beneath the dark wolf. The closer the other wolves, Alphas and possibly Betas (Clarke can’t quite tell the difference yet), get to her the more she starts to thrash and the harder the grip on her neck becomes. She’s vulnerable and trapped and her body is quaking. The scent of the others on top of this Alpha is too much to handle.

Just as the first arrived wolf emerges from the shadows, the Alpha above Clarke lets loose a vicious snarl along with a burst of dominant Alpha pheromones - halting all progress from the oncoming pack. The reverberating growl echoes through the clearing and Clarke can finally see the pack, the Alpha’s pack, edge around them but acknowledge the boundary.

 

A dusky honey-blonde wolf with a generally milder scent compared to the Alpha’s, steps forward with a lowered head - huffs at the dark wolf before letting loose a questioning bark. The Alpha has not stopped growling and her teeth are slightly digging into Clarke’s neck again as the Alpha presses Clarke’s agitated form closer to the ground below her. However, the Alpha allows this lean wolf with intelligent golden eyes to approach and sniff at Clarke’s ear. The honey-blonde wolf suddenly turns and snaps at a hulking brown wolf who had inched forward to glimpse the scene before them causing the pack to startle and nip at each other as they pushed backwards. With a howl from the honey-blonde wolf, the pack easily retreats into the forest as the lean wolf turns back to Clarke and the Alpha and eyes them curiously. 

Clarke has been emitting nothing but need and fear into the clearing that not even the Alpha’s dominant scent could mask completely. She is on the verge of crying out, she is shaking so badly she can’t keep her neck still enough as her soft skin catches against the Alpha’s long canines. She yelps in pain and the Alpha instantly releases her neck.

Immediately, Clarke feels the smooth warmth of a tongue lap over the slight nicks on her flesh and she gratefully pushes her neck up into the contact. Clarke doesn’t understand what is happening, she doesn’t know this Alpha or this pack but she can understand this comfort even if it only lasts for a moment.

 

It's all she can do.

 

Clarke closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, relaxing her body into the ground and the purring Alpha pressed against her. The heat under her skin has spiked through her quickly and has left her exhausted and alert all at once. She’s tired and her muscles are tense, but they ache and ripple, and she feels _so_ empty. A broken whine leaves Clarke’s chest and the cadence of the Alpha’s purr kicks up as it is joined by another soothing purr from the dusky wolf to her side. The air around her becomes heavy with the Alpha and Beta scents and her body is quickly becoming overwhelmed again. Clarke allows herself to fully collapse against the ground, digging her snout roughly into the grass and saturating the blades with her scent. Her mind fogs over with smell and touch and so many sensations that she can’t hold it in any longer.

 

Clarke twists in the Alpha’s hold until she’s forcing her muzzle into the thick onyx fur as she breathes this magnificent creature in and plaintively nips at the Alpha’s neck. The Alpha growls softly as the honey-blonde wolf nips lightly at Clarke's shoulder in return. The Alpha slides her canines across the tender fur of her neck in a calming gesture, but this only adds to the urgency in Clarke’s movements as she attempts to rub as much of herself against the Alpha. She can’t stop touching this Alpha. Her Omega is keening intensely. She would be embarrassed if the feeling wasn't so consuming.

The Alpha and Beta both notice the frantic energy radiating off of the white wolf as whimpers crack in her chest and into the Alpha’s fur. Clarke needs the physical connection, she needs to be smothered in this Alpha’s scent and this new wolf grooming her neck isn’t giving her pause either. Their combined scents are comforting to her even if their touches are too soft and their bites too light. Clarke basks in the attention anyway and licks at the honey-blonde’s snout in an encouraging gesture, stretching her neck as far as she can from underneath the Alpha’s rumbling weight.

 

Eventually, the consoling nips and grooming quiet Clarke’s delirious motions, and she relents her fatigued and unsatisfied muscles to lay upon the ground - breathing in the dew off the grass as the weight of the day pulls her under into sleep.

The moon shines brightly down from the midnight sky as the Alpha howls under its light.

 

 

**TBC**


	2. Heat Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heat fever and meeting the Alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

**Two**

 

Clarke abruptly jerks awake as the sun’s rays glide over her eyes. She turns away and takes in her surroundings. She’s in a room, or rather a tent, with a shear partition separating her and the bedding she's propped up on from a main area containing a table and a few stools scattered about. A solitary chair sits off to the side. It's been expertly carved into and it's very large for one person. The sides and the back are adorned with antlers of various sizes cresting from different angles to wrap forward towards the seat.

Clarke twists under her soft coverings. No fur. No claws. She breathes a bit easier. At least she has reverted back into human form - somehow. She has been resting on a thin bed - a cot - covered in thick, plush furs and a heavy blanket, much finer than the thin cotton ones she had in her room on the Ark, has been placed over her.

 

Clarke audibly gulps. She is _very_ naked underneath the blanket and coated in a thin sheen of sweat, not that the temperature in the tent feels decidedly hot. She takes stock of her body with a critical eye. Her ribs no longer scream at her when she draws breath and the yellowing bruising seems to be completely gone from her flushed skin. Her skin. God, her skin feels unbearably hot to the touch, just as it did the night before. She’s pretty sure if she were to enter a shower the water falling around her would evaporate from her burning flesh. The pulse in her ears is growing louder as a throbbing ache shoots through her belly and Clarke instinctively sits up, wincing as her hands shield her face from the intruding sunlight.

 

She knows what this is, she recognizes the signs and remembers the brief teachings of Omega biology, specifically an Omega’s heat. She’s dreaded this day ever since she was told what she was—an Omega, the Ark’s "one and only" born into her generation. She never thought she would ever have to experience a heat. It shouldn’t be here; this situation should be impossible. Heat talk had sounded like a disease in her biology classes, something long ago studied and cured by her people. When she presented as Omega, her mother had assured her that _that_ part of her biology would never affect her unless medically induced. Something must have triggered it; something must have set her Omega loose and overridden her implant. 

Her eyes squeeze shut in concentration as the night’s events play through her mind. She was finding water, she saw the moon rising, there were green eyes watching her, her body shifted and she ran—she ran from the ALPHA. Clarke gasps and her muscles cinch to the point of pain at the memory, immediately relaxing as a low rumble announces a shadowed presence entering the tent. Clarke’s nostrils flare as her eyes flash in recognition; it’s the Alpha from the clearing.

 

It’s her Omega’s catalyst. It has to be.

 

Hesitantly, Clarke glances up at the giant wolf making its way towards her, blue eyes locking onto the intense green as she clutches the blanket tightly to her chest. The closer the Alpha gets, the heavier the air seems to be as Clarke tries to keep her breathing even in the face of this wolf. Big mistake. Clarke breathes the Alpha’s scent in and it lays heavily on her tongue with each intake. Ultimately, her venture proves unsuccessful, and she’s left panting shallowly as the Alpha halts inches from her. 

She can’t stop staring into this Alpha’s scrutinizing eyes - crystal clear, vivid in their organic color, and the heat of this gaze is  _so_ damn expressive; it’s almost hypnotic. The press of smooth canines against her forearm snaps Clarke from the Alpha’s mesmerizing eyes. She flinches back instinctively, and the dark wolf growls as if affronted. Clarke turns her gaze down to her lap and away from the Alpha, trying to remember all she can from her old world species courses on primitive Alpha behavior before the formation of the space stations and the Ark.

 

‘Alphas: considered to be natural born leaders, top of the pack, highly prone to bouts of violent aggression, possessive tendencies may be tied to their protective instincts, they take threats to their dominance very seriously. _Like holding eye contact Clarke, god Griffin, get a grip. Oh, and onto the best part!_ Alphas will do _anything_ to stake a claim on an Omega in the form of a mating bite, and once claimed an Omega belongs to that Alpha—goodbye free will. Alphas are dangerous.’

 

Clarke’s stutters as the large wolf nuzzles into her stomach. The Alpha’s snout pressing into her abdomen through the blanket feels oddly wonderful yet awful at the same time. Clarke doesn’t know if the contact was meant to comfort or provoke but her muscles ripple to life and clench all the same. She forces herself to lay down atop the bedding once again as her breathing picks up and her legs move around restlessly. Clarke tosses her head back and gasps again as she realizes what this potent feeling is. Her skin is flushed and she’s slick between her thighs, and Clarke moans as a wave of clear, concise arousal floods through her when the Alpha’s scent spikes in her nose, clinging to tip of her tongue.

Clarke tosses her head to the side away from the Alpha, embarrassed at her body’s display and apparent lack of control as her breathing still puffs out between her lips. She can’t stop the squirming of her legs under the covers and truly desires to kick them all off of her and leave herself bare. No one told her what to expect during a heat except that she would wish to mate an Alpha, but surely this reaction can’t be right. Each graze of her skin on the furs is almost torturous, a comfort turning painful all at once. The dichotomy is so maddening that she almost does not notice the dip in the bedding. Clarke twists her head around to see the Alpha halfway perched upon the bed, the Alpha’s head still pressing into her belly as calculating green eyes watch her every move.

 

Finally, after a long few minutes of unbearable stillness, Clarke huffs through reddening cheeks and gives in to what her Omega is crying for. She just wants the Alpha closer. She fists her hands into the Alphas fur along a strong neck and palms pleadingly. The Alpha snorts against Clarke in an almost pleased manner, and if Clarke hadn’t been so distracted by her muscles twitching beneath the Alpha’s head, she would have sworn the wolf was smirking at her. Clarke pulls at the fur this time, and the Alpha complies with her silent request, hoisting its body onto the bedding to lay itself across Clarke’s sweat soaked body just as it had the night before.

The huge wolf keeps most of its weight off of Clarke, a paw and shoulder draped haphazardly over her legs while the Alpha’s flank and tail wrap around her feet. Clarke grips onto the Alpha’s head by the ears, threading her fingers through the thick fur as her Omega whines. The Alpha begins to purr as Clarke soaks the sharp musk of the Alpha in. She begins to breath easier as the cloud of Alpha scent settles around her. The quaking muscles of her belly halt somewhat, though Clarke clings desperately to the Alpha’s head and keeps the purring Alpha tightly pressed against her. Her head is spinning but it’s a pleasant buzz of sorts. Clarke slowly runs her fingers over the Alpha’s muzzle, between those striking green eyes fixed to her face, and over and over the Alpha’s ears. The repetitive strokes are soothing and when Clarke glances down, she sees the Alpha with eyes closed, enjoying the attention.

 

Clarke releases another soft whine as her leg jerks slightly against the Alpha. The dark wolf leans further into her body - its head moving up to lie just below her breasts as its chest rumbles loudly against her own. It’s comforting and Clarke sighs appreciatively. She doesn’t know this Alpha’s agenda but for the moment Clarke is cautiously accepting the safety found in this wolf’s presence. Her hands continue to comb through the Alpha’s fur as she finds herself drifting off into a heated sleep.

  

* * *

  

Time becomes something of an illusion for Clarke. She can tell it has passed by the strain in her muscles and the salty moisture coating her body. She has fought to keep her mind in one place when mildly awake, focused on the slanted roof of the tent, or the feel of the soft fabric in her pillows but even the silky graze of her bedding soon turns into a grating and almost painful touch against her flesh.

The Alpha is gone and everything feels off, and she can’t stop moving this time. The sounds of muffled fighting and growling echo in her ears. Her entire being feels as if she were set aflame from the inside out and she is trying not to panic and pass out, but she’s so exhausted. Darkness claims her once again and it’s anything but peaceful.

The next hours, or possibly days, flash by in the space of prowling shadows and nameless blurs. As before, Clarke found herself fading in and out of restless consciousness, constantly pushing and pulling at herself, at her bedding, at anything within reach.

 

Clarke groans against her bedding, her heart feels spent and almost every muscle in her body aches. Her eyes stay closed as she takes in a deep breath, assessing her sluggish state. Her limbs feel like lead and her skin, once on fire, feels coated in a chilled sweat. Her lower belly still feels in a word: unsatisfied. Clarke can smell the slick between her legs and what must be a generous overflow onto her sheets. For a moment she flushes as the pointed stab of arousal causes her to squeeze her legs together but it soon passes.

 

A hazy memory of violently startling awake sometime in the night in a tangle of sheets and limbs pushes forward at the front of her mind. She had been panting and sweating as if she’d run for miles without end, crying out for some unknown savior to make the torment twisting through her body end. Thankfully, a flood of heady Alpha pooled over her senses causing her to let out a low groan. A tense weight pressed against her squirming front, easing her back into the bedding as she openly keened against the Alpha. The familiar scent was a balm and the questioning growl welcoming.

A long, soft tongue ran over the sweat soaked skin of her collarbone and neck as her heart rattled against the cage of her chest in answer. After a few moments under the soothing ministrations, Clarke finally felt herself relax and her pulse settle into a more controlled pace under her skin. She whimpered her relief into the stifling air above her as she allowed the frame of her body to be nudged gently onto her side as the deep rumbling clouded her thoughts. Short, grateful whimpers escaped through her lips as the pass of the warm tongue continued its journey across her neck and down the slope of her shoulder. Clarke remembered falling asleep not long after, the feeling of comfort and the protective wrap of an arm around her middle allowing her to drift away easily.

 

* * *

 

 

As she finally opens her eyes against the soft light of dawn, Clarke sucks in a breath as she suddenly becomes aware of the weight draped against her own. It’s the same scent as before, perhaps a bit softer but it’s definitely the Alpha. Slowly, as to not wake her companion, Clarke turns her head to glance down at her body and what she sees causes a lump to rise in her throat. It _is_ the Alpha, but in human form. Clarke’s eyes widen as she takes in the sight of soft waves of thick brown hair curled across her chest, a tattooed arm possessively thrown over her waist and a toned leg cast over her own effectively pinning her down to the bed. Clarke knows she should be panicking, she should feel warning alarms going off inside her but her Omega is docile and content. It confuses her.

 

Clarke’s focus is drawn to the Alpha’s face—the peaceful sleeping face of a girl not much older than Clarke by the look of it. She’s beautiful. _No, she’s gorgeous._ Soft full lips brush against Clarke’s stomach and she shivers as she takes in the strong line of the Alpha’s jaw and the slender curve of her neck.

Clarke swallowed the hitch in her throat, and tentatively reached out with a shaky hand, so tempted to brush her fingertips across the Alpha’s cheek. Just as she was about to make contact, a sudden bark followed by the sound of a scuffle shifts her attention towards the outside of the tent. The rush of aggressive Alpha and Beta scents steals her courage and she flinches back into herself as if struck by the noise. Clarke held her breath for a moment, her blue eyes fixed on the entrance of the tent, expecting a reproach, expecting something to rip her from this moment of peace.

 

_Don’t be silly, they couldn’t have seen you...whoever ‘they ’are._

 

After a few minutes the sounds of the fight dissipate replaced by the morning calls of birds and the sharp spark of a camp fire snapping in the cool air. Clarke released the breath she had been holding and once again turned her attention to the beautiful Alpha slumbering atop her body. Clarke watched in awe as her fingers sifted through the Alpha’s chestnut locks, turning the soft strands in between her thumb and forefinger.

_It’s so smooth, like silk._

Clarke dropped the threads and watched as they cascaded down onto the Alpha’s shoulder. She repeated the motion twice more before the subtle graze of full lips pressed gently into her stomach. Clarke stiffened as her eyes locked onto fervid green eyes gazing up at her intently as they mapped out the lines and curves of her face. The Alpha lifted her head up, her face a perfect stoic mask. She seemed content to look at Clarke until the Alpha’s nose twitched. 

Clarke sucked in a breath as the Alpha swiftly leaned up and over her, purposefully nudging Clarke’s jaw to the side as she inhaled deeply and took in Clarke’s scent. Clarke remained frozen as a slight groan cracked through the Alpha’s chest. Clarke shuddered and pressed her cheek into her pillow as the Alpha continued to breath her in, lightly brushing her nose along the column of Clarke’s neck. Clarke’s toes curled as she felt the prickling of heat start at the back of her neck and trail down her spine. It caused her to slightly arc up into the Alpha who growled appreciatively next to her ear.

Clarke flushed as a wave of panic settled into her bones. Her Omega openly preens at the attention from this powerful Alpha, but Clarke is terrified of this girl and her body’s reactions to her, of their intimate position and most importantly, she’s terrified of her own biology. Everything is happening too quickly and she doesn’t recognize this part of herself. This Omega wolf who has clawed its way to the surface from deep inside her is as foreign to her as the planet she has landed on.

 

“No!”, she gasps.

 

Clarke shoves weakly at the Alpha’s chest with her palms. She shivers when their skin connects and can’t stop her hands grasping onto the muscled shoulders, keeping the Alpha at an arm’s length. The girl’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, but when Clarke blinks, the steely mask is back in its place. Clarke begins to tremble and black spots form in her vision as her breathing turns erratic. She can’t get enough air. She’s hyperventilating. She’s going to pass out. 

A deafening purr shocks through her system and Clarke feels herself quickly slip into a limbo of sorts. She feels as if her mind has been dipped in thick molasses; everything is sluggish and annoyingly hazy like she’s trying to wake from a lukewarm dream.

That’s when she feels the vibration against her hands, her throat and her cheek. The purr lowers in its intensity and Clarke realizes her breathing has evened out and her sense of panic is gone. She feels the gentle press of the Alpha’s nose against her cheek, and the brush of her eyelashes on her skin. Clarke closes her eyes in attempt to gather herself in this relaxed state. She feels--safe. The Alpha’s breath is deliciously warm and sweet on her neck and the purring retreats to a quiet rumble. She barely hears the hushed whisper against her cheek.

 

“Yu nou fir raun. (Do not be afraid).”

 

Clarke sucks in a sharp breath, pulling away from the Alpha to look directly at the stoic face studying her own. The Alpha is _so_ striking, almost intimidating in her intensity. Up this close, it is hard for Clarke to do anything but memorize the slope of her cheekbones or the dip of her full lips - or _dear lord -_ the piercing forests in her eyes. Clarke shakes off her blatant admiration and focuses on the fact that the Alpha can speak!

 

“What—what did you say?” Clarke breathes out.

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See ya in a few days! Reviews much appreciated.
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'This Is What It Feels Like' by Banks


	3. Fever Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa kind of talk. 
> 
> Anya shows up with food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

**Three**

 

The Alpha cocks her head slightly to the side, and Clarke shivers at the smooth sound of her voice - Strong and clear but surprisingly gentle as it settles over her.

 

“Yu sen - your scent. You are frightened." The girl pauses and her brow dips. "I wish to know why.”

 

Clarke considers her options. Lying does not seem a smart choice at this point, and she’s really in no position to keep quiet - plus, she really needs information. _Introductions and the truth then._

 

“My name is Clarke Griffin. I don’t know what is happening to me - not completely." She swallows thickly. "I’m alone… And you are an unknown Alpha.”

 

The Alpha’s composure doesn’t change but her warm eyes encourage Clarke to go on. Clarke sighs and fixes her eyes on the ceiling. She’s not usually this nervous but having those green eyes focus on her so intently are proving her nerves are alive and well.

 

“I’m not exactly used to all of this...this wolf stuff - I'm sure you saw that I was falling over myself while I was running. You should know that I’m not from here. No one was supposed to be here on the ground. It wasn't even supposed to be livable for another hundred years. We thought we were the last survivors, but clearly we were wrong. So very wrong.”

 

She glances back to the Alpha and asks the question she fears the answer to.

 

“Am I your prisoner? Are you going to kill me?”

 

The Alpha’s eyes widen comically and she rears back as if Clarke had slapped her - sitting on her haunches to straddle Clarke’s stomach. The brunette huffs in annoyance or confusion, possibly both, and Clarke half expects her to cross her tanned arms and pout. However, the Alpha's response is steady and deliberate in its deliverance.

 

“No, you will not die. I will not... _kill_ you, Klark." The Alpha says the deadly word as if it disgusts her. "You are an unmated Omega in Trikru territory. My territory. Your call brought us to you, and you proceeded to run. I answered your call and gave into the Chase. _I_ caught you, Klark.”

 

The Alpha looks down at the Omega as if Clarke should know the meaning of this, and the fraction of pride in the girl’s voice at the admission of being victorious is not lost on the Omega. Clarke’s mind races at the information, and ignores the way that the Alpha says her name has caused her breath to hitch. Fucking biology. Clarke blurts out her questions in a fevered rush before she can stop herself.

 

“What is Trikru? Is that what this land is called? Is that where am I now? What did you mean when you said I _called_ to you? You  _hunted_ me down - who  _are_ you?”

 

The Alpha settles back on her knees for a moment before easily leaning over Clarke once again until they are almost nose to nose. Clarke can see the lack of boundaries this Alpha has regarding personal space.

 

“You do not know who _I_ am? You know nothing of the Chase - _t_ _ruly?”_

 

Clarke does not hesitate and answers with a simple negative shake of her head, caught in the intense gaze peeking through the canopy of the Alpha’s ruffled curls and braids. 

 

“All of the clans teach these facts from birth. It is known in _every_ village within the kongeda..." The girl above Clarke purses her lips in thought. "Perhaps you did fall from the sky after all - Klark of no crew.” The Alpha almost mumbles this last musing to herself.

 

Abruptly, the Alpha straightens her spine and speaks with an iron authority that sends Clarke’s pulse racing, and heat straight to her core.

 

“I am Heda Leksa kom Trikru. Current Commander and reigning Alpha of the twelve clans.”

 

Lexa watches the Omega, ready for the likely backlash of her next revelation.

 

“And now, I am your Alpha, Klark. You and your Omega belong to _me_.”

 

Predictably, Clarke’s anxiety spikes as she tries to twist away from this Alpha that has laid claim over her. Prepared for the fear and the panic, Lexa releases that all encompassing purr and dutifully watches as Clarke rigidly eases back into the bedding. The Alpha trails her fingertips across Clarke’s jaw, as her projection calms the distressed Omega.

 

“You have nothing to fear from me, Klark. I will not mate you this heat - I can wait.”

 

Lexa brushes her thumb across Clarke’s bottom lip. Clarke still feels the haze from the Alpha's purr numbing her mind slightly. The words that Lexa has spoken are slipping into her understanding slowly and are requiring a strong focus to fully comprehend - the calming balm of the Alpha's rumble is hard to shake off, so instead Clarke listens and waits for it to subside as Lexa continues.

 

“As for the rest of your questions, I will answer them if you in turn, answer my own. Do you agree, Klark kom Skai?”

 

 _Quid pro quo: This for that._  She understands but this cannot be happening and she is _not_ accepting this bossy Alpha as her...owner? Clarke feels the bitter prickle of aggression clawing inside her skin. _Owner_. Like she is some fucking possession - no way. Absolutely not. The Alpha shifts subtly atop her hips and the movement snaps her out of her rising anger. She cannot lose it here. She must to listen and go from there. _Work with what you have, not with what you want._

Clarke swallows and nods to the Alpha - _h_ _er Alpha_. 

Lexa grants Clarke an actual smile this time; it’s small, but soft and sincere. The sight knocks Clarke's wolf for a loop. She wishes that it didn’t.

 

“You were at the beginnings of your heat. The smell of you spread for miles, calling to all the Alphas from several villages, including one outside of Trikru territory. I was traveling to this very village when I felt your call. I tracked your scent and found you at the lake. When you unleashed your pelt and ran off into trees, you announced the start of your Chase. As you can most likely remember, you had many possible suitors but _I_ was the one to catch you. You are a beautiful Omega wolf, Klark. A rare and precious gift among my people. I could not allow another to have you.”

 

“Then why did you blind side me, Lexa?” Clarke irritably touches the nick at the base of her throat given to her by the Alpha. “Does answering this Chase thing mean doing _this?_ ”

Lexa frowns, and she appears to be at a genuine loss for a moment before Heda returns and hardens her eyes.

 

“I make no apologies, Klark. I answered your call and claimed your submission. I made sure to have it before the others arrived as I must. You offered the right to the Chase and I caught you, yet you refused to submit. I am more than just an Alpha; _I am Heda_. I could not let your challenge to me stand no matter your state.”

 

“What _challenge?_ Are you kidding me?! You ran me down and basically attacked me. _I_ fought back!”

 

Clarke huffs at the Alpha’s shifting attitude and attempts to turn herself away, but Lexa does not let her retreat, keeping her weight solidly on top of Clarke.

 

The Omega snaps at being denied and growls fiercely. “I am more than just an Omega, Lexa. I didn’t know about any of this.”

 

Lexa calmly covers Clarke’s hand with her own, and waits for the blonde - her future mate, to settle herself and look back to her before beginning again.

 

“Knowledgeable or not, you must accept the consequences of your actions, Klark. You publicly initiated the Chase, a sacred ritual of my people. The vows taken under the moon are resolutely clear. Once a Chase has begun, it can not be undone. It does not end until the Omega is caught, claimed, and mated.”

 

Lexa slowly brushes a stray strand of golden hair from Clark’s neck as to not startle the stressed girl. "Meizen, ai natshana en skaifaya (Beautiful, my moon and stars)."

 

Despite her reservations and lividity at her present situation, Clarke finds herself unconsciously leaning into the Alpha's touch and the hushed foreign words.

 

“You _must_ understand this, Klark. You cannot go back, and neither can I.”

 

Clarke sighs. She is not on board for this even if it is some sacred ritual for these people, but her body aches and, gods, she is so tired - both physically and mentally. _Fine._ She will keep her head down...for now.

Lexa seems to sense the shift in Clarke's demeanor but does not comment on it. “Now - why did you fall, Klark kom Skai? How have you survived up in the stars where you hail from?”

 

Clarke glances away from the Alpha as she weighs her options, her mouth pulled to a thin line. Clarke’s Omega has accepted this Alpha's presence, and if she recalls, it has longed for it even. She wants to tell Lexa everything and nothing at the same time. Clarke looks up, as her shoulders stiffen with her decision. Mouth resolutely shut.

Lexa frowns when she sees the flicker of rebellion bleeding through Clarke’s form. She abruptly snarls at the disobedience shown by the Omega.

 

“You _will_ answer me - speak!”

 

Harsh Alpha pheromones flood into the tent. Clarke winces under the onslaught, and instinctively bares her neck as her nose burns painfully under the Alpha’s anger. Her hands jerk towards her nose to unsuccessfully ease the burn.

 

“Please stop. Lexa, _stop_.” Clarke chokes out.

 

Lexa softens at the sight of Clarke’s throat and obvious discomfort as the cloud of Alpha lifts immediately. The Alpha catalogs Clarke's reactions carefully and this time when Lexa speaks, her tone is consolatory.

 

“Klark, speak true. Tell me of your origins.”

 

Clarke nods jerkily, lowering her hands from her nose as she feels Lexa rub circles over the curve of her collarbone with the pad of her thumb.

 

“Alright, Lexa, alright.” She sighs wearily, unable to resist the command for what it is as the sting in her nostrils continues. “I was born in a place called the Ark. It’s a metal station - a village - in the sky, up in space or the stars actually. All of the children born to the Ark are given an implant - a chip injected under the skin - once they present as Alpha, Beta, or Omega. Although, Omega presentation is very uncommon.”

 

Clarke peers up at the Alpha still attempting to comfort her. Lexa seems enraptured by her story.

 

“I was the only Omega born in my generation. My implant had to be taken out from storage and adjusted to update its systematic settings. It had been so long since one was needed for an Omega.”

 

Lexa dips her chin as she continues her palpable encouragement.

 

“On the Ark, everything is muted and dulled; scents, pheromones, everything about our nature is severely lessened. If you were aboard the Ark, you wouldn’t be able to tell an Alpha from a Beta by scent. The Ark is a small space to live for the number of people we have. The council decided in order to keep the population in check, as well as our baser instincts under control, we would have to be dosed with a suppressant of sorts. The dosing implant keeps Alphas from going into rut and tempers most of their aggression, and it stops Omegas from entering their heat. Betas simply lose their scent like the rest of us.”

 

Clarke looks up to Lexa to see how the Alpha is handling this new information. Lexa’s nose flares at the mention of control. _Odd, since she is basically taking mine from me._ Clarke shudders and huffs unevenly. _Breathe, Clarke._

 

“What if you did not desire this… _implant?_ ” Lexa spits out the offending word as if it hurts her tongue to speak it.

 

Clarke cocks her head, slightly perplexed by the question. “We aren’t given a choice Lexa - that’s just how things have been done since I was born, even before I was born. No one has experienced a rut or heat, or emitted anything close to pheromones in decades.”

 

Lexa's thumb sills over Clarke's skin. “That is why my scent, and that of the others affects you so.”

 

Clarke nods her agreement. “Yes, it’s all a bit overwhelming, and sometimes it’s too much. It hurts. I’m not sure I can even regulate my own. I think after awhile, I’ll get used to it.”

 

“Yes, I believe you will.”

 

Clarke pauses, unsure of what to say as this silence passes between them. Lexa looks lost in concentration, the hardened Heda cracking a bit by the down turn to her lips - her person still quietly resting atop Clarke. Clarke still finds all of this unsettling, but her newly emerged Omega picks up as she observes this Alpha girl. Lexa peers down at her with hooded eyes, and her voice is soft.

 

“Being around an unmated Omega - around you - is proving more difficult than I expected. I see that now. Holding back my Alpha and my instincts has never been necessary. However, I will try for you, Klark.”

 

Clarke slowly nods and Lexa seems to understand that her apology of sorts for forcing her overbearing Alpha scent on her Omega has been accepted. Clarke abruptly yawns and the Alpha seems amused as she takes in the heaviness of Clarke’s eyes and her effort to stifle another yawn.

 

“Sleep, Klark. We will speak more later. You will feel better in the morning.”

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly enough, Clarke did slip into a deep sleep as the brush of fingertips traced her brow, and this time it was uninterrupted. The next morning, Clarke awoke to an empty bed in the tent smelling strongly of Lexa’s Alpha.

Clarke stretches her sore muscles, cautiously stands and looks around. She finally feels more like "Clarke" again, although her wolf is not forgotten; it simmers as a reminder of its existence under her pale skin. On a small stool by the end of the bed are a set of folded clothes. The shirt is light and slips over her head easily. The distinct blue fabric of the tunic style shirt reminds Clarke of the ocean seen from the Ark. The pants are a bit of a tight fit, but comfortable. The black material mold to her legs easily like a second skin. The whole outfit is fairly soft but durable, and it reeks of Lexa. Her Omega revels in it.

 

Lexa. Her Claimed Alpha. Alpha of the twelve clans! Clarke pinches the bridge of her nose. Nothing is how the Ark imagined. There are people here on Earth, and thriving from the looks of this tent and the ruling of sorts that has Lexa stationed as a militarian leader. How could these people - these clans - have escaped the bombs from the old world? Had Clarke’s people really been unaware of these survivors? What did these Trikru intend to do with her now, besides keep her under Lexa’s lock and key? Would she be forced into mating? Lexa had mentioned she would wait - or would she? So many questions rattled around her mind as she paces inside Lexa’s tent.

 

Clarke catches a scent on the air as she hears the approaching footsteps. She keeps her eyes locked to the entryway as a slightly familiar Beta scent reaches her nose. A woman, taller than Lexa and a bit older - maybe in her early thirties - steps inside. She is clad in similar garb as Clarke, with a few extra articles - the overcoat that reaches her mid thigh looks comfortable though. The most noticeable is a sword stretched across the dark blonde’s back, as well as the number of deadly looking daggers strapped to her thighs and no doubt more hidden under her coat.

The sharp woman makes no move to approach Clarke, but cocks her head to the side in a manner similar to Lexa. She watches Clarke. The Beta’s almond eyes rake up her form as if sizing her up, but strangely Clarke feels no threat in the action.

 

After a moment, the Beta pauses and shifts her stiff stance. She turns to her side and extends her arm in a plaintive gesture. Clarke eyes the outstretched hand wearily and glances between the Beta’s patient eyes and the offer. Sensing that Clarke is not going to move anytime soon, the Beta drops her hand and starts to move forward.

Clarke instinctively retreats, the back of her knees catching on the bed’s frame as she falls back. In a flash, the Beta is in her space, kneeling in front of Clarke. The woman’s hand lightly grips Clarke’s wrist, keeping her from tumbling to the floor. 

Clarke looks over the Beta’s features - high cheekbones accented by the intricate braids pulling her hair from her face. The woman is beautiful in a way similar to Lexa, but unique in her own right. Her scent is milder than Lexa’s too, and Clarke’s mind flits to the night of the Chase and to the honey blonde wolf that stepped forward.

 

“It was you,” Clarke rasps, “It was you at the clearing with Lexa.”

 

The Beta nods succinctly and releases Clarke’s wrist carefully as she is guided to the bed to sit.

 

“Are you hungry?” The Beta’s voice is firm and genuine in its concern.

 

“Yes.”

 

The woman grunts as she stands and silently leaves the tent, leaving Clarke at a loss. A few minutes later, the Beta returns with a plate piled high with an assortment of meats and fruit, along with a sloshing jug. Clarke’s nose immediately recognizes the fresh scent of water and her stomach erupts to life as the plate is set on her knees.

 

“Thank you…um?”

 

“General Onya kom Trikru, first to Heda Leksa. You may call me Onya if you wish, Prisa.”

 

Clarke’s nose scrunches as she picks up on the tacked on word she believes to be a nick name for her, but accepts all the same. “Thank you, Anya.”

 

The Beta grunts once again and sits down beside Clarke, observing her eat. Clarke feels like a starving animal as the first taste of this strange, wondrous food hits her taste buds. The meat is spicy and juicy, and the fruits are so sweet and somewhat tangy. It is absolutely delicious, and she cannot stop looking down for more. When offered the jug, Clarke greedily gulps down the cold liquid - sighing as it cools her throat.

 

“Your body is recovering from your prolonged heat. I can retrieve more of you wish.” The Beta lazily gestures to Clarke’s empty plate, and takes it as Clarke eagerly nods.

 

Another abundant plate is delivered to her as the Beta silently guards Clarke as she eats. After the Omega has finally had enough, she sets the plate aside and faces the quiet Beta next to her.

 

“So…what happens now? What will Lexa do with me?”

 

The Beta straightens and her chin rises slightly.

 

“Heda has claimed you for Trikru. That means you are under our care, and our laws. You will accompany us to the capital where Heda resides, and your fate will be decided. You will be protected, Prisa. It is not safe for Omegas to be out in the open. You were lucky to be found by Heda.”

 

Clarke’s brow furrows at the explanation. “Why isn’t it safe? Lexa said Omegas were considered precious among your people.”

 

Anya purses her lips together, clearly thinking over Clarke’s question. “It’s not for me to tell, not yet. Especially to an outsider, Omega or not, you are a great risk to take on, Prisa.”

 

Clarke feels a pit form in her gut as the now familiar bitterness seeps in. “So I _am_ a prisoner. Lexa lied to me.” The words are more a statement than a question.

 

“Watch your tongue; Heda does _not_ lie!” The sharp rebuke has Clarke flinching back, snapping her eyes to her lap as her hands fist the furs on either side of her. The Beta’s scent angrily curls around them. Anya growls lowly as she huffs out a deep sigh. She looks away from Clarke, her eyes tinged with a glint of regret. When she turns back, Anya is as still as stone once again.

 

“You are _not_ Heda’s prisoner, Klark. You are her guest. You are a claim to Trikru, and we will take care of you.”

 

“What if I don’t want to be taken care of? What if I don’t want to be some Omega trophy for Lexa?"

 

The Beta's eyes flash but she chooses to remain quiet. Clarke's knuckles turn white as she grips the furs in her fists.

 

"What if I don't _want_ this?”

 

Anya casts her a calculating look. “Then you would be a fool. You know nothing of this world, you have no skills to keep yourself alive and you have no one - you are alone. So, are you a fool, Klark kom Skai?”

 

Clarke tenses her jaw and shifts uneasily under the Beta’s cool gaze and looks to the light flooding in through the tent. She welcomes the feel of the Beta's calming scent as it grounds her wolf - it's really kind of soothing. So - Is she a fool? Is it foolish to wish to be just Clarke again sans Omega? Is it foolish to wish to be anything but some Omega object to be toted around for an Alpha, even one such as Lexa, and then locked away? _Is keeping my dignity and autonomy such a foolish notion? Are those things worth my life? Gods...will I have to choose?_

 

“I don’t know, Anya. I just… I’m not sure of _anything_ anymore, even of myself. I don't feel like _me._ It's like I don't even recognize myself anymore - not with my wolf - maybe I never did in the first place but I am not stupid. I  _know_ I will need help surviving here, and I _am_ grateful for the hospitality Lexa has offered me so far. But even so, I feel lost - and that feeling, more than anything else, is becoming more apparent every day.”

 

The Beta hums knowingly to herself as she accepts Clarke’s words, even as her wolf senses the Omega is holding back.

 

“Maybe you are not quite such a fool after all, Prisa.”

 

  **TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to:
> 
> 'You're A Wolf' by Sea Wolf


	4. Trouble, Trouble, Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small Flashback.
> 
> Anya and Lexa bonding time.
> 
> [Translations are made to the best of my ability.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Four **

  

_[Three days earlier.]_

 

 

“Heda calm yourself. You are causing the pack to become needlessly restless. I have broken up too many scuffles today and I will hurt you if I must jump in between another.”

 

The Alpha paces back and forth inside the healer’s hut. Her namesake as Alpha rolls off her shoulders with each snap of her body.

 

“Leksa you are starting to stink up this room. For moon’s sake, sen daun (Sit down)!” 

 

Lexa turns towards her first and snarls at the lounging Beta General, kicking a nearby stepping stool into the wall.

 

“I cannot, Onya. I have never felt a pull such as this. I cannot concentrate. My wolf is uncooperative. Em ste tofon (It is difficult).” 

 

The Beta trains her eyes on her second as the young Alpha irritably growls out her discomfort. If something was affecting Lexa to this degree, there would only be one outcome to this excursion. The situation has gone on much too long. It needs to be dealt with now.

 

“Fine. If you are affected so, perhaps we should make for the valley sooner rather than later. The latest reports have narrowed the sky fallen Omega to that patch of forest on the outskirts of Indra’s village.”

 

The Alpha huffs and cants her chin towards the General in agreement, as she feels her first attempting to calm her wolf. It is futile. No amount of Beta influence will be enough now.

 

“Sha ai fos (Yes, my first). It is time to see this rumor true or false. Come, let’s be off.” 

 

Before the Alpha could leave the hut, Anya places a hand on her second’s forearm, halting her movement.

 

“Leksa, you know there is no rumor. You know the truth of this matter.”

 

The Alpha clenches her jaw and refuses to answer, so Anya continues.

 

“There are no unknown Omegas left in Trikru territory. The very few that are unmated reside in the safety of Polis. You _know_ this to be true. The wind is carrying a new scent - a budding Omega scent on the verge of heat. We need to be the ones to reach her first.”

 

Lexa’s fist tightens around her sword pommel as she turns her gaze towards the Beta, determination finally settling into her eyes. She nods curtly and stalks out of the hut, Anya trailing a few paces behind her. A chorus of respectful ‘Heda’ echoes among the gathered warriors and hunters in her scouting pack. 

Lexa stands stiffly before them as Anya addresses the group with a steely finality.

 

“Trikru gonas, maun op (Trikru warriors, mount up)! We are leaving for the Mountain Valley outside of Tondisi. It is confirmed that there is an unknown Omega residing out in the woods. We _will_ be the first to find her to bring her safely back to the capital. Alphas will remain on the border’s edge as our line of first defense. Betas will be with me on the extraction team. No one is to catch or claim her. There will be _no_ mistakes. Ste yuj (Be strong).”

 

The unspoken threat of what would happen if one of them were to give in and catch this mysterious Omega, weighed on their minds. The task itself will be a difficult one. Resisting an Omega’s call is hard enough, but resisting that in addition to the temptation of a Chase seems an impossibility. The Alphas shuffle awkwardly, a few grumbling but none complaining. They have their orders and understand the ramifications of disobeying.

  

* * *

   

When they reach the border of the wood, the moon is just beginning to rise. Every Alpha in Lexa’s pack is irritable and growling. The intense cloud of Omega seeps into the very leaves on the trees. The whole valley is coated in a sweet, alluring blanket.

Lexa can feel her Alpha vibrating underneath her skin, itching to rip free from the pack and follow the Omega’s trail all on her own. Lexa sets her mask in place and wills her wolf to keep her mind strong, but no matter how many times she entreats the wolf, it fights her control. Her Alpha desperately wants this Omega. There is no doubt in Lexa’s mind that once confronted with this new wolf, her Alpha will do everything it can to claim her. Anya steps up beside her, the Beta presence somewhat grounding.

 

“Em ste kamp raun hir (She is here).” 

 

The Beta nods. Lexa knows Anya has come to the same conclusion, which is another reason the Beta has sent the gona Alphas to protect their border during this mission. Anya is attempting to protect the other Alphas from Lexa should her wolf feel threatened by any potential rivals. Hopefully the Betas will not read as competition either but that is the risk to be taken. It is time.

The Alpha turns to her forces and barks out their previous orders. The Alphas scatter out to the borders as the remaining Betas follow their Heda into the cover of aged bark and growing things - off to find the falling sky.

 

* * *

 

_[Present]_

 

 

Anya sighs as she enters her own tent. As expected, Lexa is right where she had left her. For the past two days, the Alpha sat hunched over a table scattered with letters upon letters from various clans as they waited for Clarke’s strength to return and her mood to somewhat settle before beginning the journey to Polis.

 

“Hei, Heda.” The Beta greets and bows her head slightly. 

 

Lexa glances up tiredly, and motions her General forward with a flick of her wrist. “Onya.”

 

“Yumi souda chich op. Taim don kom op, Heda. (You and I must speak. It is time, Heda.)”

 

Lexa straightens in her chair and leans back. She had expected as much from her General. “Tel ai op, ha ste dula em op? Ron ai ridiyo op, beja. (Tell me, how is she doing? Give me the truth, please.)”

 

Anya pulls out the second chair from beneath the table and sits down across from her anxious second.

 

“She is as well as can be expected, Heda. She asks for you.” The Beta pauses as Lexa purses her lips, but says nothing. Anya mentally shakes her head at her former second, but continues her report.

 

“She wonders what is to become of her now that you have taken her as your own under the rules of the Chase.” Running her tongue along a pointed canine, the Beta forms her response with honest precision. “Her spirit and her wolf are lost, Leksa.”

 

Lexa huffs indignantly. “ _Sha_ , she currently seems to be confused and unsure of _everything_.”

 

Anya’s eyes immediately narrow as she snaps back, “I do not blame her, and neither should _you_ , _seken_ (second).”

 

Lexa’s head whips up in surprise and then in anger at her General’s sudden chastisement. The Beta knew there was a chance she would regret angering the Alpha, but she had not liked the tone wrapped around Lexa’s statement surrounding Clarke. The Alpha needed a reality slap, and the Beta was the only one suited to this particular task.

 

“Leksa, have you already forgotten your first shift? Even as a pup, it was disorienting and painful for you. We all watched her during the Chase. She had clearly never shifted before, and from what you relayed to me this was her first heat as well. Not only that, but the combined scents of our entire encampment drove her heat into a fevered hell.”

 

“I know that—I _felt_ it, Onya! _I_ had to hold her through it!” Lexa growls as she harshly slams her fist down onto the table, sending a cup and the poised candles spiraling to the ground. Her Alpha is verging on losing control. Her General knew how torturous those two days had been for Lexa and her wolf; witnessing her claimed Omega in desperate need and visceral pain, yet unable to complete their bond and soothe their ache.

 

Anya snarls right back. “Then maybe you should take that into consideration instead of sitting here like a petulant pup. She has every right to be upset and confused. At least _she_ is attempting to get ahold of it, but that is never going to happen if her supposed intended Alpha keeps running away.”

 

Lexa wrenches herself from the table and towers over the seated Beta General. “Are you implying that _I_ am?!”

 

Anya raises her chin defiantly and locks her eyes onto Lexa’s, knowing the Alpha wolf would be grinding its fangs the entire time.

 

“I am not _implying_ anything, _seken_ , I am _telling_. You have been sulking for the last two days since you last spoke to Klark.”

 

“I am doing no such thing. I am performing my duty as Heda and as Alpha. That is all.”

 

“Spicha. (Liar)”

 

“ _Em pleni! (Enough)_ ”

 

 “Say her name, Leksa.”

 

The Alpha stutters and backs away to slouch in her chair. “Why? That proves nothing, Onya. She will be fine once we reach Polis. She will adjust. She and our clan will be safe once the ritual is over.”

 

“Klark will not be _fine_ , Leksa.”  Anya watches as her second’s face twitches again at her continued use of the Omega’s name. _Good._ “Klark is confined to a tent that reeks of you, yet you deny her your presence and your knowledge. I know this is not easy on you, Heda, but it has been hard on Klark as well. She believes she is nothing more than your trophy. She will not say more of it but I sense that she expects to be used and caged once she has satisfied her role to you.”

 

"I would--never," Lexa loses the rest to a snarl as her lips curl back over her canines. "I would _never_ do that to her, Onya!"

 

Lexa loses steam as quickly as her outburst came as she rubbs her palms over her face and presses them into her eyelids until she sees spots. “She is brimming with anger and bitterness, Onya. She doesn’t strike out at me, but I know Klark does not accept my claim from the Chase. I can physically feel her fear of it, and of herself. She is not...my _trophy_.”

 

“Klark is figuring out how to deal with the situation she has been presented with, seken. If you had been claimed on your first heat by a strange and powerful Alpha, you would probably be showing some form of panic and rebellion too. Shifting alone can be a traumatic and vulnerable experience if you do not have a guide to help you; Klark shifted while we were _hunting_ her during her budding heat, Leksa. Honestly, I am surprised she has not attempted an escape.”

 

Anya sighs as she sees her second flinch and relents on her former student. “Leksa, chek ai au. (Lexa, look at me)” 

 

The Alpha drops her hands and looks to the Beta, finally looking as young as her age.

 

Anya's tone is resolute. “You need to talk to her. Tell Klark why it is imperative that we must take her to Polis in the first place, and what will happen once we arrive. Have you spoken about any of this since her heat ended?”

 

Lexa grumbles. “No, I have not. I did not wish to cause her greater distress. I told her we would speak again the following morning but—”

 

“—but you sent me instead. Branwada (fool).” Anya could have smacked her second in the forehead. She deserved a good wallop. 

 

“I understand you are wary, but this will only turn sour later on. She is full of questions. You should answer them, at least the ones that directly pertain to her. Yes, she is angry and lost. Speak openly with her - abandon Heda for a moment and allow your wolf to guide you. This could help build her trust in you, Leksa. It is plain to see the Omega in her is open to your Alpha whether she knows it or not. Now, you must focus on Klark and Leksa.”

 

“Sha, Onya. You are not wrong in this. I will go to her.” The Alpha made to stand again.

 

“Heda, hod op (wait).”

 

Anya toys with the hilt of a dagger on her right thigh. “Perhaps, it would be beneficial to try and integrate her into the pack sooner rather than later. Allow her to leave your tent—”

 

The Alpha’s protective instincts immediately spike. “ _Nowe (never)_ , absolutely not! I will—” 

 

“—shut her away? Sever all of her freedoms and give her due cause to think ill of you?”

 

“Shof op, Onya. (Be quiet, Anya)” The Alpha growls in her throat as her wolf paces and huffs at the obvious truth in the Beta’s words. Any wolf would despise being caged, especially a newly shifted one.

 

“I will watch her, Leksa. I will keep her safe. We are less than a day’s walk from Tondisi. We need to stop there for provisions as it is. There is no better village to begin her introduction to our world - your world. Indra is an exceptional leader. She can keep her pack in line. Consider this, beja (please).” 

 

Lexa’s mind runs through the Beta’s words as her fingers drift over a dog-eared letter from a northern village. Anya watches as the Alpha’s eyes flit through a range of outcomes, silently taking stock of the number of unmated Alphas and Betas sheltered in Tondisi. It is clear her second is still having trouble controlling her wolf in regards to its possessive nature over Clarke.

 

“Kei (very well), Onya. We will leave for Tondisi at first light tomorrow, and we will stay only one night. We must move on to Polis as swiftly as possible. Ice has already made its way into the tower.” 

 

Anya grimaces and nods in understanding. The Chase is not over quite yet. Lexa lifts from her seat, smoothing out the lines of her coat as she moves to make her way towards her own tent and to Clarke. She walks to the tent’s entrance before stopping briefly.

 

“Mochof (thank you), Onya.”

 

“Sha, sha. Gon we, seken. (Yeah, yeah. Leave me, second.)” 

 

Anya skillfully twirls her dagger in her fingers as her Heda retreats from the tent.

 

“Sich, sich, sich. (Trouble, trouble trouble.)”

 

 

**TBC**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to modify the update rule I set for myself. I'll keep posting twice a week at least, but if I have the chapters ready I will simply post them when they are done.
> 
> I did my best to translate. If there are any mistakes, please let me know! I am still working on my Spanish grammar, so learning Trigedasleng will probably take me just as long. Trial and error, a lot of patience, and all that good stuff.
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'Wolf Like Me' by TV On The Radio


	5. Ask Your Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke try to talk without the influence of their wolves. 
> 
> Lexa is an awkward starfish.
> 
> Clarke tries not to be a bitter pickle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Five **

 

 

Lexa pauses at the entrance of her tent, dismissing the two Beta guards with the flick off her wrist. Uncharacteristically, nerves churn restlessly in the seat of her stomach and out towards her limbs as her Alpha claws at the back of her mind. This is ridiculous. She is only going to _talk_ to Clarke for Moon’s sake. This is no way for an Alpha—for _Heda_ , to be acting. Lexa seals herself behind the Commander’s stoisism, feeling the comfort of her impassive counterpart take over. She would answer Clarke’s questions as quickly and clearly as possible, inform her of their departure, and then leave. Yes, simple and to the point. No need for her wolf to get in a twist.

Lexa inclines her chin slightly as she confidently pushes forward into her tent. As she suspected, Clarke had been aware of her arrival and locked onto her with those wide clear blue eyes as soon as she crossed the threshold.

 

The softness of sun soaked berries and sweet grasses meet the Alpha’s nose instantly. The sweetness is an Omega attribute but the scent her Alpha detects is all uniquely Clarke. Lexa subtly sniffs at her tent. She likes it - she likes Clarke's scent mixing with her own.

 

She approaches the Omega slowly but a sure confidence laces her even steps. Clarke is perched on the edge of the bed, a few pieces of parchment settled in her lap and a stick of charcoal clasped in her smudged fingers. A streak of black is swiped over her cheek just under her right eye. Lexa’s lips part. By the Moon, she had forgotten just how blue Clarke's eyes are.

The Alpha clears her throat as she stops a few feet from the Omega.

 

“Hello, Klark.”

 

“Hei, Lexa.”

 

Lexa’s lips ache to form a smile at the use of her native language. Clarke is smart. Clarke is learning, even with her limited interactions with the Trikru. Lexa’s Alpha is impressed, then slightly jealous, and a bit saddened all at once. It is irrational but _she_ had wanted to be the one to teach these things to Clarke - to share them with her.

 

“Anya has been teaching me a few phrases here and there.”

 

Lexa’s eyes flash. Clarke is observant too.

 

“So she has… I am glad.”

 

Silence stretches between them as they study each other. Clarke finds herself staring at not only Lexa, but the dark Alpha wolf hovering behind those forest eyes as well. Lexa observes Clarke and surveys the snow white wolf peering back at her through the restless blue. There are only their wolves here. Alpha and Omega tentatively circling each other on equal ground. It is a raw affair that neither are sure how to proceed with. So here they are, sniffing the air and nudging at each other’s flanks with wariness and curiosity.

Clarke regards Lexa with these new set of eyes, calculating and sharp. They are the eyes of her wolf, lingering and potent. Lexa feels as if she is caught in the eye of a great storm, raging and turbulent around her within a heart of a tranquil water. The Alpha suddenly feels a rush of absolute peace silence her thunderous spirit, and in the next blink, it is gone; Lexa could feel the change, and sense the subtle loss in the air. In the span of what little time it took for the flutter of lashes to ghost upon her cheek, Lexa had felt a harmonious peace. It resonates like a plucked string tied to the very heart of her wolf.

Lexa sucks in a short breath.

 

“Klark.”

 

Her Alpha craves more.

 

The Omega shakes her head as if trying to clear it clean of the wolf taking residence there. Clarke looks back to the Alpha head on.

 

“So, are you finally going to tell me what’s going on?”

 

Lexa retreats, and Heda steps forward.

 

“Sha, Klark.” Her tone is slightly clipped. “Tomorrow at first light we will travel to a nearby village called Tondisi. We require provisions before we make our way to the capital, Polis.”

 

“Alright." Clarke lightly clicks her tongue against her teeth, attempting to hold back and push at the same time. "And will I be _allowed_ to leave this tent in Tondisi? Will I be allowed to see this Tondisi, or speak to anyone besides Anya?”

 

Lexa clenches her jaw slightly, as she feels the faint raise of her hackles at the Omega’s subtle jab.

 

“You will, Klark, but Onya will stay with you when I am not present. At _all_ times, you will be accompanied.”

 

“A hostage under lock and key.”

 

“Nowe, Klark you are my—“

 

“—guest, yes I know. Anya told me as much.”

 

Lexa sighs and grips the pommel of her sword - hard. Why must explaining this be so difficult. She does not like that Clarke is so blatantly snappish with her, but she understands.  _Spirits give me strength._

 

“You know where I come from, guests aren’t kept in solitary confinement. Criminals are, prisoners are. If this is how Trikru treat their guests, I do not wish to be one any longer." Clarke pointedly fixes the Alpha with a sharp look. "Let me leave, Lexa.”

 

Lexa snarls, and wrenches herself away from the Omega’s space to pace along the length of the tent once - then twice. Clarke registers the flare of Alpha pheromones and holds back the urge to clamp her palm over her nose. It is only then that the Omega realizes that Lexa had been tamping down her scent since her arrival. The Alpha’s shoulders stiffen, and then drop and then tense again.

Lexa turns to face Clarke. The Alpha looks lost, clenching and unclenching her jaw. Her face impassive one minute, contorted in the next, and then as clean as a slate the next; just like her shoulders.

 

“Ste yuj kom ai, Klark. Ai trana (Be strong with me, Clarke, I am trying)!”

 

The Alpha squeezes the sword pommel so tightly her knuckles crack and her skin blanches white.

 

“Lexa…”

 

Clarke exhales deeply and shuffles her loose papers into a stack and gently sets them aside. She presses her palm to the surface almost reverently.

 

“Lexa, beja.”

 

The Alpha growls in response, and refuses to look at Clarke. Lexa startles as she feels the weight of a hand rest atop her own. Her eyes lock onto blue as her brow pulls together.

 

“I’m not leaving, Lexa. I won't try to.”

 

Green eyes widen as the Alpha maps the form of Clarke’s lips, and the sun sifting through the golden hair over her shoulders.

 

“You will not attempt—you will stay here with me?”

 

Clarke grips Lexa’s hand a bit harder. Lexa’s voice held a lilt of vulnerability. Clarke knew she had no choice but to stay out of necessity, but a point needed to be made on this ‘guest’ treatment. The Omega briefly feels guilt for causing this minor distress, but Clarke needs to push these issues or she fears they will be swept under the rug and overlooked - she has lost her freedom and her choice, she will lose nothing else.

 

“Sha, Lexa. I will stay. I can’t just waltz around outside. You _know_ where I came from. I don’t know how to survive on my own, and I don’t think I’ll enjoy another run in with more of your people without knowing more about myself or this world.”

 

Clarke takes a step back, but remains within reaching distance. “I will stay, but you have to let me breath, Lexa. I’m suffocating in here, and I admit, I’m afraid—“

 

“Do not be, Klark. You have nothing to fear from me.”

 

Clarke's wolf warms at this assurance and it takes everything for Clarke not to show her internal frustration. _Stupid, naive, trusting wolf. Stupid instincts._ “I want to believe you, Lexa."  _At least my wolf does._  "But you have told me little to nothing about your people, what specifically this ritual entails, or _anything_ really. And I know I have no right to demand things from you, but this involves myself as much as it does you. I deserve to know this much.”

 

Clarke drops her hand from Lexa’s altogether, and the Alpha almost whines from the loss.

 

“Everything has been ripped away from me. I need to know. Beja.”

 

Lexa swallows the lump in her throat, takes a deep breath and nods. “You are right, Klark. This does involve you. Sit with me, please.” Lexa gestures to the bed.

 

Clarke follows the Alpha to rest on the edge of the bed frame, watching as the Alpha gracefully sits beside her. Lexa looks to her lap before shifting her gaze onto the Omega’s.

 

“What do you wish to know first?”

 

Clarke wets her lips before she speaks, oblivious to have drawn the Alpha’s focus to her lips.

 

“What is the Chase—the ritual part of it? You said it was sacred to your people and I will try to respect that. What does it mean in regards to me? To us?”

 

Lexa’s eyes lit up at the mention of an ‘us’ between her and Clarke. The Alpha tears her eyes away from the Omega’s mouth and concerns herself with Clarke’s words.

 

“The Chase _is_ sacred, Klark, especially among Alpha and Omega wolves. The ritual has been passed down through our ancestors since time long before the old world rained down fire and scorched the Earth clean. As I mentioned when last we spoke,” Lexa licks her lips at the memory, “Omegas are rare, and the clans are left wanting for their numbers and their influence. This fact alone gives importance to the Chase. However, the true value lies in the bonding of Alpha and Omega as it provides the clan with a true pair. It grants completion and balance to a pack, and yields peace to all within it.”

 

The Alpha’s voice speaks with a sense of pride as she recounts her culture’s beliefs. Clarke dips her head, ready for Lexa to continue.

 

“The status of an Alpha in a true mated pair implies power, or rather, that the claiming Alpha has acquired the highest form of dominance an Alpha can possess.”

 

Lexa shifts almost uncomfortably under Clarke’s scrutiny. Although she is proud of the soon to be updated status of her wolf as Alpha, she now knows how this will sound to Clarke as she hears Anya's words ringing in her mind. _'Nothing but an Omega trophy.'_

 

The Alpha clears her throat. “The last Chase and claim by a Heda was decades ago, and it only lasted a few weeks before war erupted and the commanding Alpha was killed. But there was peace for a time. That is what the Chase means to us, for us, Klark.”

 

Lexa breathes shallowly as she watches the Omega soak in this information. She has known from the beginning that the blonde did not believe in the sacred union of the Chase. _Not yet._ Clarke has never experienced her Omega nature, and has never known the truth of her wolf. She is alien to the traditions of Lexa's people but despite that, Lexa allows herself the danger of hope. If she completes their ritual, if the kongeda accepts her claim - this could be the beginning of a new age for her people. _But what will it be for Klark?_

 

The Alpha snaps out of her musing at the sound of Clarke's voice. “Your people believe a union between you and I, will bring them peace. They think if we become mates, that you will essentially become some kind of ultimate Alpha.”

 

Lexa is uncertain if Clarke had meant her words to be questions, but at the inflections, she nods earnestly all the same.

 

Clarke looks into the Alpha’s wide gaze. Lexa seems to be speaking honestly and with sincerity.

 

“Alright, I believe you.” At least she can cross off this 'ritual thing being some crap reason to claim an Omega without cause' from her list. Clarke watches relief pass over the Alpha. “I believe you, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely on board with this because I'm _not_. I still have plenty of questions and I need answers - real answers.”

 

Lexa couldn’t help but offer up a smile at the Omega’s fire. She finds she quite enjoys it when it is not being directed negatively towards her. “Sha, Klark. Ask your questions and I will give you your answers if I can.”

 

“Well, this isn’t exactly a question but more of a request I guess?”

 

Lexa inclines her head in Clarke’s direction, as the blonde presses her palms flat against the tops of her thighs and powers through.

 

“I want to leave this tent, and when we get to Tondisi I want to leave that tent, or house, or cave or whatever cage there is to be for me as well. I want to experience this world, Lexa. I want to learn about your people.

Please, don’t shut me away again.”

 

Lexa bites back grimace as the Omega’s sadness leaches into the air at the thought of being left alone again. The Alpha’s defensive instincts threaten to jump forward, and she works her jaw before relenting. After all, this is what she decided with Anya. This is what Clarke needs to thrive and trust in her and in her clan.

 

“As I said, you may leave your tent with Onya to accompany you if I am absent. Tondisi is a lively village and will have much to show you of the Trikru people. I am sure they would be happy to show you the various aspects of the day to day workings if you asked. You will be taken care of, Klark, I swear it.”

 

Lexa pushes her protective presence as gently as she can into the tent. Clarke unconsciously leans in towards the Alpha and Lexa holds back her joy at this discovery.

 

“I appreciate it but I don’t need to be taken care of to such a dibilitating extent, Lexa. I am not an invalid. I can be taught, and I wish to learn. And if I am not a prisoner, then allow me to.”

 

“Kei, Klark. I will teach you. I can teach you more of our language, and our customs. If you wish it, I can teach you to shift properly as well. You need not fear your wolf anymore.”

 

Clarke does allow a smile at the eager Alpha and Lexa’s wolf howls in delight.

 

“I accept your offer.”

 

Just as Lexa is about to say more, Anya pushes through the tent’s entrance.

 

“Moba, Heda.” The Beta bows her head. “Klark.”

 

Lexa straightens, and Clarke watches the Alpha switch over into the recognizable Heda persona. Her voice is every bit as commanding as her aura as it flares to life.

 

“Chit yu gaf, Onya (What do you want, Anya)?”

 

The Beta’s face is tense and her posture stiff as she answers. “Maun-de, Heda.”

 

Lexa shoots up instantly, her Alpha spiking throughout the tent in waves. She turns to Clarke.

 

“My apologies Klark, but I must leave you now.” The Alpha’s voice is tense, but steady. The Commander dips her chin and turns on her heel towards her Beta General. The Alpha pauses next to her fos as the two trade hushed information. Lexa pulls back, and casts one more glance on the silent Omega sitting on her bed.

 

“Shil em op (Protect her).” Heda commands before swiftly departing without another word.

 

Clarke’s questioning gaze settles on Anya who remains in the tent. The Beta sighs and looks to the Omega.

 

“Are you hungry Clarke? It _is_ almost time for dina (food).”

 

Sensing the left over tension, Clarke whips up classic sarcastic Griffin. She doesn't wish to make Anya's job here more awkward than it is for the General Beta. “Why is it you are always the one offering me food? Are you looking for a career change, General?”

 

The Beta doesn't disappoint. Anya cracks a grin and retorts with equal sass.

 

“Don’t kid yourself, Prisa, we both know you would _starve_ without _me_.”

 

“And don’t you forget it!”

 

Anya chuckles. “Yu _sou laik_ prisa (You ARE a princess).”

 

Clarke sticks her tongue out at the snarky Beta, silently reminding herself again to inquire about the ‘prisa’ thing Anya insists on calling her.

 

Anya ducks out from the tent for a second to send for food and drink to be brought inside. In less than five minutes Anya is back, arms full with her bounty. Clarke finds herself thinking over all Lexa has told her as she digs into a hot spiced stew and a healthy chunk of dark grain bread. She finds herself feeling a bit lighter after her discussion with the Alpha. Lexa had been honest and open with her even when she posed information Clarke claerly did not agree with. She did not lie or fake her concern for Clarke's wellbeing. Maybe they could work something out surrounding this ritual - maybe having some hope for her future was a possibility. A sense of relief settles temporarily over the Omega.

As night falls upon the camp, Clarke rolls over onto the bed away from the tent’s opening. Anya silently moves towards the pallet and tosses a blanket haphazardly over the Omega who grunts a ‘thank you’ at the Beta.

 

“Reshop, prisa (Goodnight, princess).”

 

Clarke drifts off to the sound of the pack she has not met and the crackling of the camp fires, wrapped in the protective scent of an absent Alpha.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexa is trying.
> 
> So far I have about twenty chapters outlined. They sort of mesh season one and two together in a new order, but I am keeping to a rough timeline similar to the 'Mountain Men' arc.
> 
> However, I am adding my own twist to things as you can see, and I hope you guys enjoy the ride!
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'Still Life' by Dawn Golden


	6. Tondisi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tondisi! Introducing Indra and Lincoln.
> 
> Reports on strange activity from the Mountain.
> 
> Unrest in Polis?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Six **

 

  

Clarke had never seen a horse before, let alone ridden one so when the Commander held out her hand atop a sleek silver mount, Clarke had her reservations.

However, with the help of the Alpha and Anya, Clarke is hoisted up into the saddle in front of Lexa. As she situates herself, tuning out the teasing quip from the Beta about clumsy ‘good falls’ or something of the like, Clarke found she rather enjoyed horses. The scent of them is strange but not unwelcome, and actually paired nicely with the leather harnesses and saddles strapped over the steed’s girth.

 

Lexa's horse is large and Clarke can feel every breath it takes as well as the stallion’s measured stride with each step forward. It doesn't hurt that she is also shielded inside the circle of Lexa’s arms on either side of her torso. The Alpha is pressed tightly against Clarke’s back and she has given up trying to create a polite distance. With each bump or change in the terrain, she and Lexa are pushed together in the saddle’s seat without fuss.

The Omega in Clarke is pleased with the Alpha’s closeness and preens as the scent of Heda covers her directly from the source instead of from a second hand garment, or blanket. Clarke has given up trying to hush her wolf for the duration of this ride. It's clear her Omega enjoys Lexa's presence even if Clarke's mind resists it.

 

As the company marches and rides through the wood, Clarke takes the time to study the foliage around her. The artist in her makes careful note of the shape of each intricate leaf or discovered color of flower as they pass by.

The scents are still new to the Omega as well. She finds she loves the smell of the trees, especially the crisp bark and the ripe freshness of the air. It reminds her of Lexa’s own scent; a heady mix of an earthy tang with the lightness of budding greens. It was comforting when it wasn’t blasting at her from all sides.

Clarke can also scent the numerous points of life from various types of animals buried in the safety of the forest. At one instance, Lexa’s hand lightly squeezed the curve of Clarke’s hip. Gaining her attention, the Alpha calmly pointed out a young doe and her fawn in between a thicket of vines and tree limbs.

 

Clarke is enamored. Life has found a way to survive on Earth and it has spread into something truly beautiful and wondrous.

 

She is glad she is able to share in this, and as strange as it feels, her Omega is humbled that she is sharing it with _Lexa_.

 

* * *

  

In only a few short hours, Clarke can make out the thinning of the trees and surrounding vegetation as the tops of buildings and pointed beams of Tondisi came into view. They must be nearly there. For that, Clarke is glad. She knew the time she spent on the horse would be fairly brief, but her muscles are already aching and her legs scream to be stretched on the ground.

Clarke fidgets in the saddle, and shifts her feet to and fro, her heels knocking into Lexa’s periodically. She simply can’t hold in her excitement. Clarke basks in her eagerness to see this village. She isn’t sure why it felt so important to her to see this place, but something is adamant inside her that she go there.

 

Lexa’s amused voice slides its way into her ear.

 

“Patience, Klark, we are almost there.”

 

Klark makes to turn her head to see the Alpha, but stops when Lexa stiffens.

 

In a flash a figure descends from a scraggly tree to their immediate right.

 

Lexa pulls their mount to a halt, and quickly wraps an arm solidly around Clarke’s middle. The rest of the pack behind them comes to a stand still as they regard the interruption.

 

The figure remains close to the ground, kneeling before Lexa’s horse. “Heda.”

 

“Linkon, have you come to escort us to Tondisi?”

 

The Trikru man stands and looks up to the Alpha, and then to Clarke. Lexa’s arm around her tightens minutely. Lincoln averts his eyes.

 

“Sha, Heda. Allow me to lead the way. Indra has been expecting you. She will greet us there.”

 

Clarke’s nose flares slightly. Beta. An attractive Beta; tall and bald with a bit of scruff around his jaw. Darker in skin than Lexa’s own, and muscular but lean like the Alpha. Lincoln smells like pine and firewood.

 

With Lexa’s go ahead, Lincoln leads them straight to the gates of Tondisi.

 

* * *

  

In an instant, Clarke is being handed down into Anya’s arms as the rest of the pack dismounts behind Heda’s steed.

 

The life within Tondisi seems to pulse around Clarke, as her eyes attempt to drink it all in. The village is bigger than she had imagined, more like a small city than the modest town she had been expecting. The houses resemble make-shift huts, built with stones and thick logs from the woods. The roofs are thatched with straw and sealed tightly together in a dark mixture. Overall, these buildings seem a sturdy lodging, with doors and windows. They look like good, strong, weathered homes.

 

Other structures are more as Clarke would have expected from her old history books. Solid stone, and a few are two stories tall, possibly surviving from the old world. Multi-colored lanterns hang from merchant stalls; stalls of similar trade seem to correspond with similar colors. The smells are all over the place and well rounded in variety. Clearly a great deal of Alphas and Betas, but nothing too overpowering, and Clarke is thankful for that. She can smell bread baking, meat smoking in a far away storage shack, even the iron heat of metal being pounded into molds by a local blacksmith. A small group of laughing children chase a speckled wolf pup as it runs through the square before darting into a nearby shop. It is amazing, and Clarke cannot help but peer out over Anya’s shoulder to view more.

Clarke’s reverie is interrupted by the sudden hush that whips through the village. A number of reverently spoken “Heda” was all that Clarke can hear as everyone had frozen in their place to bow their heads to their leader. Lexa raises her palm in acknowledgement and dismounts her horse with the grace of an expert rider.

 

As soon as Lexa’s foot hits the ground, a strong Beta scent parts through the rest of the crowd; unearthed roots—pine nuts with an odd accent of hot, ironed steel. A dark skinned woman, darker than Lincoln and older than Anya with short black hair close to her scalp and a few scars crossing over her forehead to her cheek, approaches the Alpha.

 

“Mounin, Heda (Welcome, Commander).” The Beta says with an unbridled respect.

 

“Indra. It is good to see you.”

 

Lexa and Indra briefly clasp arms in greeting before turning to Clarke and the Beta General.

 

Indra tips her head towards the dusky blonde. “General, I see you are well.”

 

Anya inclines her chin. “I am.”

 

“Os (Good).” The stiff Beta leader clips.

 

Clarke watches the interaction with a cautious interest. Clearly this Indra person is one for formality and takes her duty as village leader very seriously. Not a hint of amusement or happiness at her Heda’s arrival crosses the Beta leader’s features, even though Clarke could hear the pride in the Beta’s voice. Her political mask rivals even Lexa’s.

 

It must be a grounder custom to keep everything locked away and wiped free of your face, or maybe life had just hardened these people to the point it was second nature to them. Either way, Clarke is impressed but still a bit wary of the dark Beta. She would avoid crossing this woman if she could in the future. It wasn’t until all three leaders were staring at her, that Clarke realizes someone must have addressed her. Silently she curses herself for getting lost in her own musings.

 

Indra is watching her with a keen eye, nothing hinting of ill intent but not entirely friendly either. She is so serious it was almost unnerving. Clarke reflexively straightens and lifts her chin in the manner Anya had earlier. She feels the need to prove herself to this Beta. She would not allow herself to be intimidated any more than she already felt. It seems Lexa understands, and intervenes before Clarke can question their attention.

 

The Alpha raises her arm and holds her hand up in her direction, beckoning her softly.

 

“Klark.”

 

The Omega steps up beside the Alpha, taking comfort in her familiar presence.

 

“This is Indra. She is a great warrior, and the chosen leader of Tondisi and all the lands within Trikru territory. She is the one who notified us of when you fell from the sky.”

 

Clarke nods to the Beta leader, and made her voice sound stronger than she felt. “It’s good to meet you. I have heard good things about your village from Heda and her General.”

 

The Beta’s eyes linger on Clarke before nodding approvingly and addressing Lexa in the same formal tone.

 

“My people have set up lodging for you, Heda. There is much to be discussed.”

 

“Sha, Indra. In a moment.”

 

The Beta huffs with a soft annoyance and steps back as Lexa looks to Lincoln with her mask set in place. Her voice is hard and resolute.

 

“Linkon, escort Klark around the village. She wishes to see what Trikru have to offer. Show her. I expect your return in two marks. Is that clear?”

 

Lincoln nods vigorously with a murmuring of acquiescence.

 

Lexa’s expressive eyes settle on Clarke’s, and she softens around the edges.

 

“I will see you soon, Klark. Onya will stay with you.”

 

Clarke scans the Alpha’s face. “Sha, Heda.”

 

Lexa’s chest hitches with an unknown pressure, as she watches Clarke move away to join Lincoln. Before the blonde can take another step, the Alpha reaches out and pulls the Omega into her body, holding Clarke close with a firm grip for the first time since her heat ended. Clarke stiffens in surprise, but relaxes in the Alpha’s arms as she registers the hammering of the Commander’s heart. _Is Lexa afraid?_

As quickly as the contact was initiated, it is over. Heda releases Clarke and steps away, strutting towards the center of Tondisi in the direction of the village meeting house.

 

Indra’s studious gaze snaps from the Omega as she follows after the Commander, and disappears after the Alpha inside the large structure.

  

* * *

 

Lexa sat down at the head of a long table, settling her hands against the arms of an expertly crafted wooden chair. It wasn’t her throne but she found she could make any seat give her the impression of Heda, and for this conversation she needed Heda’s strength.

Indra stands off to the Alpha’s side, collecting a few scraps of paper before lowering them to the table as she sat down. “Correspondence from the outlying villages. There have been troubling reports on all ends, Heda.”

 

“Of the Ice or of the Maunon (mountain men)?”

 

“Both, Heda.”

 

Lexa’s eyes flash as she takes a dagger from her jacket, spinning it idly on the oak table.

 

“Explain.”

 

“There are reports from my own scouts, and the scouts from Rock Creek that have laid on the kripas kom Maun-de (demons from the mountain). They have been sniffing about the Valley, Heda.”

The Alpha’s jaw tightens. She knows the Valley Indra speaks of - the Valley that caught the sky. However, Lexa refuses to show this acknowledgement. Indra is wise. She already knows.

 

“And the other reports.”

 

The Beta’s hackles rise, and Lexa knows that is answer enough.

 

“So you have heard of the Ice as well.”

 

“Sha.” The Beta spits her answer. “Frozen devils have been scouring along Trikru borders. There have been no entanglements so far, but—”

 

“It is only a matter of time.” Lexa sighs and so does Heda. “We all knew this day would come, Indra.”

 

“Heda, you know how Ice reacts to anything you set in motion; any disruption seems to drag out needless blood and they crave it. They are drawn to conflict like flies to dead flesh.”

 

Lexa hums in agreement. She could not dispute Indra’s words, but the Trikru had always tread dangerous waters with the Ice Nation. Lexa had to follow her head now more than ever.

 

Indra rifles through a few notes from the pile. “I assume you have heard the Queen is on the move.”

 

Lexa answers the Beta warrior flatly. “Sha, I received word the Azplana (Ice Queen) had made her way to Polis two moons ago. I have no doubt she is awaiting my arrival with some quarrel upon her lips.”

 

The Beta leader scoffs. “Heda, that woman is just as she has always been. The Azplana wants your power and the power of the coalition, of your clans, of your people. We must act. Rally the other clans to our interests.”

 

Lexa twirls the dagger in her fingers with a lazy skill, offering nothing to the Beta’s words but an impassive stare. Rallying other clans to align with Trikru even under the guise of closer trade relations would be a flimsy cover. It would be too obvious and most likely considered an immediate hostile. No matter the reason, the Ice Nation is still under Heda's coalition - they must be the ones to make the first move.

 

The Beta leader almost snarls as her wolf pleads with her Heda to allow preemptive measures to be taken.

 

“As far as advantages go, Heda, you still own all the cards in this great game we have in play. It is all tipped in your favor as you lead the kongeda. All you need is to seize it completely. You now have all the means to do so. Mate the Omega. Complete the ritual. Bring us peace and strike down the Azplana threat before it is too late.”

 

Lexa flips the hilt of the dagger and stabs the blade deeply into the wooden table below as her Alpha releases a snarl. Indra does not flinch but keeps her mouth firmly shut.

 

The sound of a whinnying horse jerking to a halt, and a clamoring scout banging on the door tears their attention from the tense cabin air.

 

“Min op (Enter).”

 

The scouts bursts in at once, gulping in deep breaths as his voice rasps out into the stillness.

 

“Wigod ai op hashta min klin, Heda. Em ste meija (Forgive me for intruding, Heda. It is important)!”

 

* * *

  

Clarke wades through the villagers and their lively streets, Anya at her side as Lincoln leads them to a hut lined with pelts on every wall - some draped over standing partitions while others are placed on large piles scattered about the hut. Clarke runs her hand over a light golden fur, marveling at the softness under her fingertips. 

The old shopkeeper fidgets before clearing his throat with a graveling husk. Clarke looks up at the man, and gives him a small smile. She sensed Alpha but his scent lacks the hardened musk she had come to associate with most of them. His scent spoke of a gentle soul.

 

“These are beautiful. Do you make all of this yourself?”

 

The Alpha man eyes Anya cautiously over Clarke’s shoulder, and visibly jumps as Lincoln nudges him with his elbow and offers a sly grin the shopkeeper’s way. 

 

The furrier chuckles at himself. “Sha, everything in this shop is made by my own two hands and that of my family. My sons help to catch and skin, and my houmon cleans the hides. My daughter owns a fine trading post a ways up North from here. She helps tailor custom orders and trades for all kinds of old world trinkets.”

 

Clarke could hear the pride in his voice as he spoke of his family and their skill. His face visibly lightened and Clarke saw a man who reminded her briefly of her father. She decided she liked him.

 

“You must let them know their work is to be praised. As is your own…?”

 

“Khoyn.” The shopkeeper supplies.

 

“Khoyn, your shop is truly a work of art in your trade. Thank you for offering me some of your time.”

 

The shopkeeper puffs out his chest at the compliment before turning to dig through a pile of finished tailored pelts. In an instant, a fur cloak of the purist white Clarke has ever seen is being laid into her hands.

 

“For you, take it.” The Alpha offers.

 

Clarke reflexively makes to give the cloak back, but rough hands gently close over hers to keep the pelt in her grip.

 

“It is a gift, beja.”

 

Clarke looks into kind, aged eyes and nods as she speaks softly at the man’s kindness. “Mochof, Khoyn (thank you).”

  

* * *

  

Lincoln led Clarke to four more shops where she received the same charitable treatment, attempting to decline but leaving with an armful of free goods non the less. She happily passed everything onto a disgruntled Anya, who then dumped it all upon an unsuspecting Lincoln.

It was as they were leaving a food vender, who insisted they ordered whatever they wished, that Clarke began to notice more and more of the villagers inclining their heads in her direction.

 

Clarke paused beside the general at what looked like a medieval armory, and watched the surrounding Betas and Alphas as Lincoln went on about the nature of the shop and how it was his favorite due to the smith’s skill with various metals. 

As she observed the villagers, she noticed the unconscious tilt to their heads as they passed, and the momentary flare to their nostrils. Some had even lifted their heads without shame and taken a direct sniff of the air. What was going on? Did she smell that strange? Was it bad?

 

“Anya.” Clarke calls the Beta’s attention away from a small set of knives with wicked curves.

 

“Do I smell?” Clarke could see the wise-crack remark coming a mile away. “And don’t say yes just to be an ass. I’m serious. Everyone here keeps sniffing at me. I know I haven't exactly had time to bath fully but do I smell _that_ bad?”

 

The Beta clicks her tongue and follows Clarke’s gaze to a pair of gonas that were doing just as Clarke mentioned. They hastily walk past once they notice the General’s glare.

 

“Sha, you _do_ smell, Klark.”

 

Clarke huffs and turns rip Anya a new one, but the General holds up her hand, barely concealing the amusement taking over her expression.

 

“You do smell, but to their wolves you smell very good -  _e_ _specially_  to the Alphas. Tondisi wolves have never scented a grown Omega before, Klark. You are the first in Trikru territory in a very long time. So yes, they are scenting you and they are trying to take your wolf in without being disrespectful. They are curious, nothing more.”

 

Clarke hums in understanding, still watching a few bustling villagers slow to pause around her to get a quick whiff of Omega. It's strange - very strange and it makes her oddly paranoid of her scent. This is going to take some getting used to. Just like a Beta, Anya notices her unease easily.

 

“It will pass, Klark. Besides, you smell more like the Commander than yourself this day.”

 

Clarke’s cheeks flush as she glares at the General’s blank countenance. Even though she and Lexa have done nothing more than tentatively dance around each other, the implication of anything otherwise makes her face burn hotly.

 

The Beta turns back towards Lincoln and motions for him. Their time is over here.

 

* * *

 

 

Anya and Lincoln brought Clarke back to the meeting hut where Clarke immediately shivered at the charge of familiar Alpha pheromones. Lexa’s Alpha had spiked a solid wall and assaulted the cabin without mercy. Clarke could almost taste the Alpha’s aggravation underneath the dominant blitz. Some disagreement must have happened. Perhaps the conversation with Indra did not go well.

Lexa suddenly throws open the door and Clarke could tell something was, in fact, definitely wrong by the tightness of the Alpha’s face. Her green eyes crackle with erratic lightening, nothing like the indifferent Heda they had left only hours before. The Alpha wildly scans Clarke’s face and limbs. The Omega is instantly engulfed in the Alpha’s arms and pulled inside the hut before she can take another breath.

 

Lexa has once again trapped her in the circle of her arms, burying her face in the side of Clarke’s neck.

 

“Mochof hashta skaifayas (Thank the stars).” The Alpha mumbles the words into Clarke’s skin. The somber tone breaking from the Alpha’s lips causes an ache to form in Clarke’s chest.

 

“Lexa?”

 

Clarke tentatively, returns the embrace, loosely placing her hands on the Alpha’s rigid back.

 

“What is it? What’s happened?”

 

The Alpha does not answer, but presses Clarke closer as she breathes in the blonde’s scent. Clarke can feel Lexa’s heart racing in her chest as her pheromones continue to roll into the room in plundering waves. It clashes harshly against her nose but in this moment, all Clarke wants to do is comfort. She weaves a hand through the Alpha’s thick mane of hair and releases a soft purr from within her chest. 

In return, the Alpha frees her own deep rumbling, clearly pleased that the Omega in Clarke has responded to her even though she wishes it were under different circumstances.

 

Clarke didn’t know how long they stood there together, but by the end of their embrace, Lexa had calmed and begun making small circles with her fingers on Clarke’s back.

 

“Lexa?”

 

The Alpha hums into Clarke’s skin. Clarke swallows as her purr slowly dissipates. “Lexa, can you tell me what happened? Are...are you okay?”

 

Lexa grips Clarke’s shirt tightly in her fists before hesitantly letting the Omega go. The Alpha takes a step back and looks into Clarke’s questioning eyes. Clarke can see the turmoil rolling around in those green pools. She can see Lexa fighting herself. Clarke moves to step forward again but stops when Heda’s harsh voice echoes inside the room.

 

“We are needed in Polis. Prepare to leave immediately.” Heda side-steps Clarke and swiftly exits the hut, leaving Clarke reeling at the Alpha's stony dismissal.

 

Once again, Clarke feels as if her legs have been cut out from under her.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk about emotional whiplash. They'll figure it out eventually. We are off to Polis and into the wolf's den (pun intended).
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'Indian Summer' by Jai Wolf


	7. Confuse Us Both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More traveling.
> 
> Angst, angst, angst.
> 
> Training with Anya.
> 
> Meet Ontari.
> 
> Welcome to Polis, kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Seven **

 

   _[On the Road again...]_

 

 

“You know—you remind me of a good friend of mine.”

 

Clarke cocks her head in Anya’s direction as a brief nostalgia settles over her.

 

“She’s a Beta too, but she has all the swagger and confidence of any Alpha I’ve ever met or heard of.”

 

“Sounds like my kind of Beta.” The General returns lazily.

 

“Well, she could definitely give you a run for your money in the sass department that’s for sure.”

 

At the Beta’s questioning look, Clarke explains further before facing forward once again.

 

“’A run for your money’, meaning that she could rival even _your_ self assuredness.”

 

Clarke feels the Beta bark out a choked laugh behind her, startling a few of the gonas walking beside them. “You have the oddest ways of speaking, but I will hold you to that, Prisa.”

 

At the mention of her new nickname, Clarke attempts to shift in the saddle to glare at the General. “Okay, I have to know. Why do you keep calling me that?”

 

Anya lifts her hands from the reins in a placating and playful gesture. “It is not meant to offer insult, Klark. It is a title of honor and status due to the manner and timing of your arrival.”

 

“So what does it mean?”

 

Anya hums to herself before answering. “Prisa means 'princess' in Trigedasleng. As your descent was from the moon spirit during the season’s highest moon, our people believe you to be its princess of sorts. It is meant to convey respect, Klark; respect and reverence.”

 

Clarke looks around at the Alphas and Betas marching around the General’s chestnut mare, contemplating this newest bit of information. She has never been revered before. Respected due to her Griffin lineage and for her growing skill in medicine, but never revered. Clarke doesn't know how to feel about this either. _Something else to mull over on this journey I suppose._

 

“Plus, you cannot deny that you do not act like a princess from time to time. After all, I _am_ waiting on you hand and foot: bringing your meals, ordering your baths, finding you clothes...”

 

Clarke lets out an exaggerated scoff and feigned mock offense. “And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.” She places a hand over her heart to complete the picture. “Silly me and my princess ways.”

 

Anya just chuckles behind her.

 

By the end of the conversation, Clarke is in much higher spirits than when they left Tondisi. It hadn’t even been a full day and she finds that she already misses the lively village. Not to mention, she is trying to forget the strangeness that had settled over Lexa in the short amount of time they had been there and had been apart. She had thought she and the Alpha were at least getting to the point where they could speak freely. Even her wolf is at a loss, and that hollowness is not easily forgotten.

 

The Omega’s mind turns the clock back to hours before.

  

* * *

 

_[Meeting hut in Tondisi]_

 

 

Clarke had wracked her brain for any clue as to the Alpha’s sudden mood shift. The only answer she could come up with fell to the Beta leader, Indra, and whatever conversation passed between the two leaders while she was escorted away.

Clarke had understood to a certain extent. Lexa must have received pivotal information that sped up her already short timeframe to get to Polis. This could make anyone short tempered...  

 

Whatever the reason, it didn’t excuse Lexa’s effective use of her though, and unfortunately that’s exactly how Clarke felt: _used_. At first she had been happy to help calm the Alpha, needing to be near her just as much as Lexa seemed to need Clarke in that moment. Then Heda pushed her away, and left her standing there without so much as an explanation. Clarke hadn't been pushy with her questions - she had merely asked out of concern about Lexa's state of mind.

She hadn’t known what to do with herself after the Alpha walked away. She just stood there - dumbfounded - stupidly facing the table as her high from touring Tondisi bled out from her lungs and left her cold and drained. She had the sudden urge to cry. The shock of that surreal feeling of utter rejection had raced through her blood like ice and even though she knew most of this emotional turbulence was coming from her Omega, Clarke couldn't stop the tightness in her throat from forming nor the ache in her chest from getting to her.

 

Anya had been the one to come inside and gather her for their travels. The Beta had wrapped a stiff arm around her waist and gently guided her to their bustling camp as it made to leave on Heda’s order. Indra and many of the villagers were there offering supplies, and anything useful that could aid Heda’s journey.

 

Lexa hadn’t even spared a glance in Clarke’s direction. They wouldn’t be riding together again. That small action hurt more than she realized.

 

Clarke had smiled tightly and waved at the children who ran up to gift her with wildflowers and awestruck smiles. She had even hugged the trader, Khoyn, and thanked him again for his wonderful gift.

Then once again, Clarke was lifted onto a horse - Anya's beautiful mare this time - and followed by the Beta General sliding into the saddle behind her. Clarke had been in such a daze that she did not notice their departure, she did not notice the subtle glances tossed her way by the gonas, she did not notice Anya murmuring assurances of the journey ahead into her ear, nor did she notice that Lincoln had joined their Polis bound pack.

 

It wasn’t until the chestnut mare startled at a warrior’s sudden shift into wolf form that Clarke seemed to snap into the reality of the here and now.

Anya had barked sharply at the gona and attempted to soothe her distraught horse. Clarke blinked rapidly at the scene before her and finally felt the air expanding her lungs and waking her mind to attention. She was back into the moment, but something was off. 

The tension in the pack was now stiflingly obvious. She could not believe she hadn’t felt this fluctuation of distraught scents sooner.

 

Half of the pack had changed their skins, adopting their wolves in favor of their human state. The pack was no longer moving forward—they were stalled. They were growling softly and snapping each other irritably - snapping glaringly at their human companions as well.

Clarke had watched as Lincoln pushed a grayish-brown wolf off to the side so that Anya’s mare could make some head way to the front of the fold. 

 

She had watched as the Commander turned on her silver horse, growling almost viciously at her disheveled pack, and their eyes suddenly connected from across the distance. She had watched the syllables of her name fall from Lexa’s lips before everything had gone black and she faded into an abrupt unconsciousness.

  

* * *

 

  _[Present]_

 

 

“Klark!”

 

Clarke is shaken from the memory as Anya pokes her in the head.

 

“Ah, what? What is it?” Clarke batts the Beta’s hand away.

 

“Were you listening to me, Prisa, or is your head still stuck in those clouds you fell from?”

 

Clarke sighs and turns back to the Beta glaring at her from a few feet away on the field of short grass, hands on her cocked hips. She runs a hand through her wild blonde hair and settles her palm against her sweaty neck.

 

“Moba, Anya, I’m a bit distracted.”

 

The Beta lets out an elongated sigh as well and walks towards her.

 

“Kei, Klark. It has been a long day. We will begin again at dawn before we pack up.”

 

Clarke lest out a groan. “Dawn? Really?”

 

“Sha, _prisa_.” The manner in which she emphasized Clarke’s title just dripped with a smugness that had Clarke wanting to push Anya in the nearest lake.

 

Anya looks at Clarke absently kneading her neck and immediately sobers. “You need to learn control. Control your emotions and you control your wolf. We will run drills until you calm. Then meditate. We can’t have another episode like earlier today, Klark.”

 

Clarke grimaces as her eyes train to the ground. Her boot toes the grass mindlessly.

 

“I know.” She is still embarrassed from the event. Confused as heck as apparently it had been her Omega that had caused the pack to act out of character and shift unnaturally into their wolves. She is still unsure of how that had been her fault - how she had made it happen, but Anya seemed sure that she was the root cause.

 

She looks at the Beta and feels a heaviness alongside an emptiness sink into the space meant to be enclosed by her rib cage. The subtle ache she felt after waking from her blackout still lingers. The General rolls her shoulder as she stretches out her arms, walking alongside Clarke back to their temporary camp.

 

“It will be alright, Klark. If a pup can manage it, I have faith in a Prisa from the stars.”

 

Clarke chuckles at the Beta’s attempt to lift her mood - she is grateful for it. She could tell, despite Anya’s mocking barbs, the General had been worried about her since her fainting spell and the shifting pack. In fact, all of the pack seemed to be on edge. Not the tense, agitated mess they had been before her blackout, but Clarke could actually _feel_ their anxiety and worry for her. It was...odd, but comforting in a way. For the most part, it made her Omega feel like she wasn’t completely alone. 

Both the Omega and Beta sat down by one of the many camp fires as night stretched its hand across the fading sky. The pack reminisced about Tondisi and spoke of tales involving Polis and families they had waiting there. Clarke listens quietly. Content to be a side instead of an entrée for this evening’s menu.

 

Her thoughts do not stay on the conversations around her though. They land heavily on the Alpha currently missing from their camp. Anya had told Clarke the Commander had to scout ahead, but Clarke could tell not even the Beta General believed that excuse and she avidly disagreed with it.

Heda had taken Lincoln and four other gonas. They had left shortly after Clarke had regained consciousness, leaving the remaining warriors to sent up their shelter for the oncoming night. It also gave Anya a bit of time to try and teach Clarke how to tap into her wolf as it was the cause of the whole debacle. Obviously, that project turned out to be a blundering failure. The Beta had insisted, after many bouts of teasing and minor insults that Clarke shouldn’t feel discouraged. However, Clarke was frustrated with herself as a whole: frustrated in Clarke, frustrated in her Omega, and most of all frustrated with Lexa. Anya and Lexa clearly must have had words while she was unconscious.

 

Clarke feels even more lost now than she had after her heat, which was saying something. At least then, Lexa had been able to be in her presence for more than a few minutes…even if she had run away for two days afterwards. Clarke thought they had gotten past that though, she had thought that as her supposed future mate and Alpha, Lexa would at least stay with her.

Maybe Clarke has interpreted this whole ritual Chase thing wrong yet again. Maybe Lexa regrets choosing her, and is trying to distance herself from yet another obligation: Clarke. Would Clarke be okay with that now? It’s what she had wanted right—her freedom? Why does that feel like such a death sentence now? Okay, perhaps that is a bit overdramatic, but still...Is the ache simply loneliness and Lexa makes that feeling lessen? _Shit, Griffin, what a mess._

She feels tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Before she can embarrass herself further, she bids the pack goodnight and settles down onto the bedroll Anya must have laid out for her. Clarke cocoons herself in her gifted white cloak of fur, gazing up at the stars as she finally allows herself to wonder which of the brightest was her Ark. She drifts asleep before she can decide.

 

* * *

 

As promised, when the faint light of the sun had barely creeped over the horizon, Anya rips the furs off of Clarke’s curled form and gives her a swift boot to the ass to get her up and moving. It works.

 

Even as the Omega curses the Beta’s name, Clarke follows the General to the field. The Beta explains to her that for her mind to be strong, she needs an even stronger body, especially since Clarke is still considered a ‘newborn’ pup by grounder standards. Shifting will be an impulse for her, a rash instinct that could get her into trouble or cause harm to herself if she isn’t careful. So Anya has her run the length of the field five times in succession, followed by five sets of thirty push ups which she nearly passes out from, and finally with the grace of Anya’s barking voice ringing in her ears, Clarke is made to sprint to a nearby river where she all but collapses on the bank.

Panting and sweating, Clarke is sure her lungs are bleeding inside her chest. If not her lungs, then her throat, or maybe both. The chilled nip of the morning air has been like sucking down shards of glass instead of oxygen, but Clarke had done it. She had followed every command and finished every set of hellish exercise Anya dished out.

 

After a moment of respite, Anya hauls Clarke to her feet by the scruff of her neck and promptly tosses her in the shallow end of the river where the water is tepid. The Beta states that the current is feeble like Clarke’s performance, so she should be safe to scrub the morning’s routine from her skin.

Just for that comment, when Clarke pulls herself from the river, she flips her sodden hair in the Beta's face, spraying the General with the excess water. Clarke is pushed back into the river before they make it back to camp.

As they return, clothes almost completely dry, the camp is finishing up their packing.

 

Anya takes a moment to check the cinch on her horse, making sure it wasn’t too snug around the mare’s torso. After she steps back satisfied, she mounts the saddle and goes to reach down for Clarke. However, the Beta General pauses and releases Clarke’s forearm, pulling back as another arm reaches down into Clarke’s periphery. 

Clarke blinks disbelieving as the Commander and her silver stallion stand in front of her, shining in all their glory in the face of the morning light. She doesn't know what to say, or how to react to this offer. For a split second her Omega happily yelps, giddy that the Alpha has returned, but Clarke swiftly and severely tamps the yearning wolf down.

 

She looks away from the Alpha and chooses to retreat from Heda’s hand, moving instead to stand by Anya’s mare.

 

Lexa’s pheromones spike once in response but level just as quickly.

 

“Klark.”

 

The Omega whines for her human mind to run back to Heda and bask in the Alpha's attention. Clarke refuses - resolutely. Maybe this makes her petulant but right now she doesn't care. Lexa had confused her and then left her. _Again - she left me again_. _She has no damned right to demand things from me._

 

“Klark, ride with me.” Lexa's voice is not pleading but Clarke can hear the slight plaintive notes.

 

Clarke hufss and looks back to the Alpha - mistake.  _Dammit._  Lexa’s face is a mix of tentative hope and impassiveness. Her Omega cries as the ache in her chest grows to be slightly pained. Fine. She will ride with Lexa - but only to shut her Omega up and make this discomfort go away. Clarke avoids the Alpha's gaze but gives one jerky nod of her chin and grasps the Commander’s forearm as she indicates where she wishes to sit. 

She pulls herself up with Lexa’s aid to rest behind the Alpha and wraps her arms securely around the other girl’s middle. 

Clarke doesn't want Lexa’s comfort surrounding her this time, even if her Omega craves the protective bracket of the Alpha’s arms around her. Clarke will not accept it. Lexa seems to get the message loud and clear, and shouts for the pack to move out.

 

It takes about an hour or two for Clarke to relax somewhat against the Alpha’s back. The steady thrum of Lexa’s scent drifting over her helped the process, but she doesn't know where she stands with the Alpha or the girl. Everything Lexa says conflicts with most of her actions - at least where they are considered. It is all spinning out of control, and Clarke knows there were unseen forces Lexa had to be dealing with on top of Clarke. Clarke almost wishes that she were riding with Anya so she could speak with the Beta about these developments.

 

“Speak of the devil...” Clarke mumbles out.

 

Anya rides up beside them with a quirk in her brow. “What was that, Prisa? Have you finally caught sun fever?”

 

Lexa scowls at Anya’s mention that Clarke could become ill, but Clarke merely laughs.

 

“No, I was just thinking about you actually,” Lexa’s back stiffens in front of her, “and then you appeared out of nowhere. It’s another sky person saying—try to keep up, General.”

 

Anya rolls her eyes in clear view.

 

“I see you have both made a productive friendship while I was away. Time well spent I hope.” Lexa’s clipped voice breaks the playful atmosphere like a slap to the face. Clarke clenches her jaw until it hurts, willing herself not to verbally lash out at the Alpha’s undeserving, curt tone.

 

Anya imperceptibly straightens and her knuckles clench her reins a bit harder than necessary.

 

“Sha, _Heda_. Klark and I have been attempting to strengthen her muscles so that her next shift will come more readily and naturally by her own control - just as we discussed.”

 

Lexa keeps her gaze forward and does not offer anymore to the conversation. It is clear that it is over.

  

* * *

 

This pattern continued for the next two days. Clarke had called Anya every name she could think of for the morning routine’s that seemed to get harder every second. 

Lexa would disappear into the woods on "scouting missions" and return late into the night after Clarke was exhausted and deeply asleep.

 

The Beta General would stifle a huff as she observed the Alpha from her place beside the fire pit - guarding Clarke as she slept. She watched as Lexa returned each night and immediately zeroed in on Clarke and appraised her state. She watched as the stubborn Alpha would habitually lean down to make sure the white fur cloak was pulled up around the sleeping blonde. Anya knew that it was Lexa who made sure to place Clarke’s bedroll by the fire pit to keep the Omega warm enough - she also knew that Clarke was not knowledgable of this effort on Heda's part, and it was Lexa's own fault for that. _Branwada._

On the third day, the pack has a bit more spring in their movements. The excited energy stirs through them all as the sight of a great singular tower disrupted the horizon.

 

“Polis.” Lincoln says fondly and offers Clarke a wide smile.

 

Clarke looks down from behind the Commander. She hadn’t seen Lincoln since the first traveling day, as he had been part of Heda’s scouting team. It is good to see him again.

 

“Do you have someone special there, Lincoln? A mate?”

 

The Beta warrior chuckles and shakes his head. “No, not yet. Maybe someday soon, mother Moon willing, Prisa.”

 

“Oh no, not you too. It’s going to stick with me forever now.” Clarke groans half-heartedly.

 

Lincoln grins. “Sha, _Prisa_ Klark.”

 

“Sha, _Prisa_ Klark.” A foreign voice slices through the pack.

 

Lexa jerks her silver mount around as her Alpha pulses out in a thunderous crack. All of the gona in the vicinity sink to their knees under the weight of her call. Clarke bites her tongue hard to hold back a pained groan as her chest feels impossibly heavy.

 

The sound of horses whinnying and muffled growling makes its way to the pack’s ears.

 

“Come forward. Show yourselves to your Heda!” The Alpha demands with authoritative power.

 

Immediately a company of five riders exits from a small outcropping of trees just off to the side of the road to Polis.

 

Anya bares her teeth and growls menacingly in her throat. “Ice Nation spies.”

 

Four of the outside riders began growling and snapping at the surrounding Trikru warriors. The hackles rise on the warriors from each clan until the tension is almost palpable.

 

" _Not_ spies. Guests."

 

The middle Azgeda figure, a smirking Alpha girl, remains indifferent to the snarling Trikru. Clarke eyes the girl carefully and the girl stares right back at her. "Yun brana pakstoka ste meizen, Heda (Your new wolf is beautiful, Commander)."

 

Lexa stiffens even more in the saddleas her lips threaten to pull back over her teeth.

 

The Azgeda girl appears to be around Clarke’s age, light skinned with dark, almost black, full waves of hair similar to Lexa’s own, only littered with pale blue beading, bone fragments and intricate and tight braid work along her scalp. Her eyes are just as dark, and just as piercing. The playful irises of the Azgeda wolf shine with a knowing glint that imply deadly business.

 

All of the Azgeda wolves have on grey cloaks of thick fur that are much too heavy for this land's climate. They wore gauntlets similar to the Trikru, but instead of heavy melee weaponry like the swords, axes and maces strapped to the Trikru’s backs, these warriors carried thin, curved swords sheathed at their hips and foot long daggers tucked along their chest guards. They are all Alphas, but the girl - finally introducing herself as Ontari - is clearly this group's leader. They all smell of stale water - hard and mineral laden - this must be what ice smells like. Clarke muses briefly that she would have expected ice to have had a certain freshness to it - perhaps a sharp, clean scent instead of this staleness.

Ontari smells of ice, winter pine and the unmistakable copper tang of old blood.

 

Clarke’s grip on Lexa’s middle tightens when that scent reaches her. The Azgeda Alpha's eyes follow her every move as Lexa guides her stallion forward.

 

“Ontari kom Azgeda, Polis was not expecting you. What is your business in the capital?” Heda’s voice rings out no option for falsehood.

 

“We were called upon by our Queen’s royal request. But personally I came to view the great beauty of our mother city.” The taunting lilt of Ontari’s voice is accompanied by a not so subtle wink in Clarke’s direction. Clarke balks.

 

Lexa snarls sharply, but Ontari does nothing but continue to grin as if she enjoys getting under Lexa's skin. The Azgeda wolf bows her chin to defer to the Trikru Alpha. Anya pulls her horse beside Lexa’s, blocking Clarke from Ontari’s pointed stare.

 

“What request?” The Beta snaps - the General’s own scent flaring in the face of Ontari’s blatant flirtation and disrespect.

 

“Oh, you know how it is, General. The stresses of pleasing a leader. One can never be sure of their ruler’s whims and needs until one holds congress with said ruler.”

 

Ontari makes to reach inside her speckled grey fur. The first line of Trikru closest to the Azgeda withdraw their weapons in anticipation of a threat.

 

Ontari merely grins wider as if she expected the Trikru to be jumpy pups, and reveals a roll of parchment tied with twine.

 

“My papers, Heda, explaining our business in Polis with the Azplana’s approval.”

 

Lexa jerks her chin, and one Trikru gona approaches and takes the scroll. He unrolls it and hands it to the General. Anya’s hardened eyes scan swiftly down the wrinkled paper. The General locks eyes with Lexa and stiffly dips her head, answering her Heda’s unspoken question. The papers are legitimate.

 

“Kei, gonas kom Azgedakru (Very well, warriors of the Ice Nation). We will escort you the rest of the way to Polis. You must be eager to rest after your long journey from the North. Hoz up (Let's go)!”

 

Ontari and her fellow riders bow their heads to Heda, before mounting up on their stocky and slightly taller horses. They fall in line, sandwiched between half of the mounted Trikru gonas and the other half on foot.

 

As Lexa and Anya turn their horses forward towards the city, Clarke can practically feel the focused stare of the Azgeda Alpha, Ontari, burning into her back.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ontari's a cheeky minx.
> 
> I hope I'm not throwing too much information at you guys. I am trying to keep it relatively easy to follow along, but I am aware that I'm dishing out a feast.
> 
>    
> Written to:
> 
> 'Bittersweet' by ARCHIS


	8. Polis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Heda clash.
> 
> Arrival in Polis.
> 
> Meeting the other Omegas.
> 
> Mention of the Ice Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Eight **

 

  

_[Two days earlier / Scouting party in Trikru territory.]_

 

 

Lexa snarled as her sword cut through matted fur, clumped from sickness as pieces of it readily fell off between her fingers as she gripped the hide of the hulking beast snapping its murderous jaws at her. The disfigured creature’s breath expelled sourness and rotting things onto her cheek, turning her stomach as she let out her Alpha to release a feral cry, roaring her fury in this creature’s face.

Her blade sunk deep into the beast’s throat, severing its life from its body as red coated the forest floor below. The ravenous creature thrashed at the severing blow, its foaming snout clipping Lexa’s chin as it descended to the ground in a convulsing heap. Persistent kripa (demon), stubborn even in the face of death.

 

The sound of her fellow gonas cutting down the remaining two kripas around her put her at ease as she viewed the mutant creature bleeding out before her. Its mindless black eyes, slowly clouding over with the emptiness of nothingness. The Alpha looked up to the rising moon shining above in the darkening sky and growled out her frustration for this day. The taste of dirt and blood filled her mouth. 

The wolf simmered under Heda’s skin as she jerked her blade from the creature’s muscle with a slurping suck of air as the sword wrenched free.

She panted lightly, and felt irritated by the thin sheen of sweat coating her arms and back under her clothing. It felt rough against her battle heated skin. As Lexa looked down to the twitching creature, she cursed the Mountain with all of her wolf’s power. She detested these mocking creations.

 

The beasts looked so similar to her own people’s shifted forms, and it made her blood boil. The great hulking beasts resembled their shifted forms, wolf-like except not. Their muzzles were narrowed and longer, their ears pointed up as if clipped, their torso’s larger as their shoulder muscles bulged underneath the rotting fur, their claws were overgrown, peeling but razor sharp. The creatures always appeared starving, ribs protruding and teeth frantically snapping. Lexa cringed at the mess as the creature’s muzzle formed a twisted grin pressed to the forest floor... _more hyena than wolf_. They acted as a sick reminder of what a wolf gone rabid could devolve into, only these… _things_ were much worse; sickly and bloodthirsty products of Moun-de. 

Lincoln approached her, bowing his head under her gaze. From what she could see, he sported a few shallow scratches, and walked with a slight limp. He would heal within the hour. Lexa subtly worked her jaw back and forth, feeling the tinge of a bruise willing itself to form from the head check dealt her way. It was nothing to worry over.

 

“Heda, are you injured?”

 

“I am well, Linkon. These were the last of the ripas (reapers) you and Ryder scouted this morning, correct?”

 

Lincoln straightened as he wiped the coagulating blood from his dagger with a dirtied cloth. “Sha, Heda, these are the last of them. However, I fear our success will mean little come morning.”

 

Lexa raised a questioning brow, slightly affronted and Lincoln cleared his throat under her pointed stare.

 

“The ripas are surfacing with more intensity and traveling further from Moun-de than I have ever seen before; they push at our borders ever since the fall of the Prisa, Heda.” The Alpha’s eyes narrowed as Lincoln continued. “Trikru may be able to hold the ripas off for awhile longer, but if they keep advancing like this they will reach our villages in short order.”

 

Lexa slashed her weapon through the air, freeing the sword of the excess slick of death, before sheathing it on her back. Her voice was clear and left no room for argument.

 

“We will rid as many ripas from the surrounding area as we can while we have the time to do so, but we cannot linger here.”

 

Lincoln almost acted on his wish to voice his disapproval as Ryder and the remaining gonas filtered in behind him. The Alpha’s call and the glint in her eyes instilled his silence before disrespect could be aired into the night.

 

 “Indra is aware of this development, or do you have so little faith in your leader's knowledge Linkon?”

 

The Beta looked up in a faint panic, slack-jawed. “No Heda, _nowe_. I trust in your judgement. Otaim.”

 

“Os.” The Alpha clipped out.

 

“Hoz op (Let’s go)! We must return to camp before we lose the light of the moon. We will double back tomorrow and push forward to clear the way to protect our brothers and sisters.”

 

As Lexa led the small scouting team back through the darkness of night, retracing their steps from their earlier trek, her mind filled with thoughts of Clarke and their last interactions.

 

The Alpha had panicked in Tondisi; she knew she had, and once they had departed she could sense something off in the Omega. She had sensed the wrongness and she had done nothing - ignored it. Heda had waved it off, not noticing the subtle shift in the pack’s aura. Heda had been too caught up in the letters from the capital, the capitulations from Indra, the future battles threatening her coalition, the Chase she had answered, and the claim looming over herself and Clarke - it had been too much.

 

The moment startled blue eyes shot her way and landed on the Alpha as Lexa swiveled in her saddle to rebuke her shifting gonas, Lexa had felt the spike of terror rip through the Omega and consequently through her own person as well. 

She had felt her Alpha cry out as she helplessly witnessed Clarke’s sudden downward spiral. The Omega fell limp in Anya’s hold and Lexa felt the shock of it acutely slice through her veins, ignoring the way the pack instantly froze around them. Her reaction had been all encompassing. Lexa’s Alpha pushed her from her own horse to seize Clarke from the Beta's hold. She cradled the unresponsive Omega gently against her chest, willing Clarke to open her sparklingly blue eyes. The fierce impulse to protect and defend was severe in its singularity as if Lexa was acting on wolf instinct alone.

 

It did not abate until Clarke had awoken about a half hour later, and Heda had been the one to remind Lexa of her wolf’s costly and reckless risk regarding her cursory stint by allowing her instinct to rule over thought. Heda had made Lexa back away. _Em laik_ _Kwelnes (It is weakness)._

Lexa ground her teeth as her feet deftly moved over the woodland floor. She was _kwelen_ , and Heda could NOT be as such. _Ai laik yuj. Ai laik Heda (I am strong. I am the Commander)_. Heda may have demanded she answer the Chase, but it had been Lexa who had claimed Clarke for Trikru... And at least Clarke was relatively safe. Anya would explain the blonde's fainting spell and begin teaching Clarke how to control her Omega wolf’s influence.

 

Both Heda and Lexa were making sure Clarke was taken care of, even if she could not allow herself to do so in the blonde’s presence.

 

* * *

   

_[Present.]_

 

  

Clarke gawks as the enormity of Polis climbs higher and higher in front of the Trikru and Azgeda convoy. Her arms tighten around Lexa’s middle to keep her balance as she cranes her neck up to soak in the magnificent sight before her. 

 

The walls surrounding Polis are enough to catch her amazement. The stones stack atop one another range in various shapes and sizes. Ancient Roman arches are held firmly in place by the surrounding stones, the archway stuffed with the rock and mortar. Weathered gargoyles discreetly perch along the wall. Clarke stares at the carvings of varous animals with the body of men and gifted with great wings. Like looming overseers, they seem to hover over the ground they survey below.

Every thirty to forty feet, large megaliths shoot up from the ground, acting as a framework for the sentry stations at the very tops of the wall. Clarke could see guards walking along the length of it as it wrapped around the monstrous city. A single row of banners is draped over the sides of the stone wall, each one a different color and showing off a symbol in the center of each fabric panel.

 

Clarke recognizes the central and largest banner’s symbol as the same gear shape Lexa wears in between her brows when she dons her mask as Heda; a reoccurring fixture that has become permanent upon Lexa's skin ever since the caravan had left Tondisi.

 

At the sound of a resounding horn blasting into the air, Clarke feels Lexa straighten in the saddle, her shoulders arching back and locking into place as Heda’s profound aura seeps out from the Alpha. Lexa's scent mutes her own almost completely.

The large black gates of the capital, iron possibly by their weight as they carved into the ground, heave open as a clinking noise accompanies the gate’s outward movement.

 

Lexa’s hand briefly rests atop Clarke’s and squeezes a hinting reassurance before dropping to take the reins into her grasp. _Here we go._

 

The company pushes forward into the wide main street of Polis. They’d arrived during the afternoon rush, the sun casting a warm glow upon the merchants calling out their sales and wares while citizens bartered for deals. 

Clarke’s senses are instantly overwhelmed by the abundant sea of Alpha and Beta scents, and she buries her nose into the Commander’s shoulder opposite the pauldron she wears today, to block them from reaching her.

 

A variety of dialects filter through Clarke’s ears as she takes in the eclectic grouping of architecture framing the main street as they passed by. Some appear to be huts similar to those in Tondisi, while others are reminiscent of ancient Roman, Indian and even Japanese styled buildings. Some of them are two and three stories tall, with long strips of fabric stretching from one side of the road to the other, forming a canopy over the streets below. The appearance of these past cultures is incredibly satisfying. Clarke wonders if anyone here knows the significance of having all these relics from their collective past brought together in one thriving city.

The Omega tries to keep her wandering gaze to a minimum but she can’t help the flicker of her eyes over the goods laid out in the open markets. She narrows in on every artisan stall and watches, enraptured with the artists’ skills.

 

The Commander’s tower spikes up from the center of the city, and Clarke marvels at the true height of the structure. They are not even a third of the way into the city, and already the monolith seems to engulf the landscape.

 

Clarke’s appreciative gaze is interrupted by the sight of the people of Polis turning towards them to bow their heads, some lowering to their knees, falling like a rolling wave of the ocean as they speak out their leader’s title with a warm reverence. Flowers and brightly colored fabrics are tossed before Heda’s horse from local stalls and from baskets filled with silks. It’s like a welcoming of a beloved monarch home from a war. 

The Commander’s head is held up high and everything about her practically screams other worldly—godlike even. Lexa barely has to use her reins to steer her stallion, using the power in her legs to guide the horse through the parting crowd.

Clarke is in awe.

 

 

The party arrives at the base of the Commander’s tower, and they dismount with a grateful haste. 

Lexa slips herself free from the saddle first before reaching up for Clarke, and lowering her with a gentle veneration.

 

Two burly looking guards, exit the tower and bow to their Heda.

 

The left one approaches Lexa and converses so quickly in Trigedasleng that Clarke cannot even hope to keep up. He is the largest of the two guards; large muscled and tall with a substantial beard and tattoos similar to Indra’s adorning his face. Clarke believes Lexa called him Gustus.

 

He eyes Clarke with a wary interest as he speaks, and then they flit to the Azgeda wolves stationed a good twenty feet from the Commander and company.

She doesn’t like this churning feeling in her gut that she gets from the urgency in his tone.

When he finishes, Lexa addresses the Trikru pack and releases them from their duties until they are called upon again. Heda proceeds into another rapid conversation with this lumbering Alpha guard.

 

Clarke hears the quick raps of Anya’s gait as the Beta stops beside her, although Anya’s body is slightly angled back to face the Azgeda now sitting on their haunches behind them.

 

Clarke can’t resist a peek in their direction, and is surprised when Ontari sends her another mischievous wink, full of mirth as she tilts her head in Clarke’s direction. Clarke returns the stare head on, trying to decipher the inner workings in the Azgeda Alpha’s stormy eyes.

Clarke can’t decide what to make of that one yet, but the Alpha is definitely full of herself. That fact is plainly obvious, not to mention she seems to relish antagonizing her Heda and the Trikru General. Clarke can also see how agitated these Ice Nation wolves have made the Trikru as a whole. Clarke purses her lips. Every nation must have its internal disputes it seems.

  

* * *

 

Lincoln and Anya escort Clarke to her quarters. They had to pass through numerous winding corridors, and travel upwards in an actual working elevator for many stories before they reached their destination. 

Lexa had been ushered away by the guard Gustus and had barked at the Azgedakru to follow her. Ontari had watched Clarke until she had disappeared from view. Anya had found that worrisome and deftly guided the Omega away.

 

Clarke hadn’t been exactly sad to see Heda go, but she was definitely left with the feeling of something lacking as they separated.

 

It was still a confusing feeling being around Lexa. Just when Clarke started to feel comfortable with the other girl, the Alpha reacted unpredictably and threw her for a loop. Now she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t want to seem ungracious to her host, and she was sympathetic to the Alpha’s struggle with the Chase, but something had to give. Clarke nodded to herself. She and the Commander (or Lexa), whoever Clarke got that day, needed to have a serious talk. Soon. She could play her part if need be, but she wouldn't be a pawn in her own life.

 

Clarke made her way into her room and was pleasantly surprised by the grandness of the décor. 

A large bed is centered in the room, covered in a plethora of pillows and soft furs. Bookshelves line a whole wall off to the right and a great open window leads to a balcony to overlook all of Polis. Anya points to a wash room that is covered by drapes on the other side of the shelving units, and Clarke murmurs her thanks to both the General and Lincoln.

The Trikru warriors leave her to her own musings, and Clarke isn’t even perturbed by the sound of a lock clicking into place from the door of her quarters. It had been expected. Anya had told her it was necessary, which Clarke found odd since Polis was supposed to be safe for her after the Chase. However, the Omega accepted the condition and plopped down with a languid sigh as she melted into the comfort of the bed.

 

It was wonderful.

 

She promptly closed her eyes and fell into a quiet sleep; worrying could wait an hour or two.

When Clarke opened them again, it was to a dimming skyline and the sound of faint knocking.

 

The Omega sat up and made her way to the door of her room and tugged. Still locked.

 

The knocking continued, and she followed the echoing taps until she was facing one of the bookcases.

 

She placed her cheek close to the frame and listened. The knocks became louder. Clarke’s eyes widened as she hesitantly knocked back, knuckles rapping on the dark wood. 

Abruptly the bookcase shuddered and then started pushing outward at an angle, as if it were just a door being opened by a handle. Clarke jumped back, not knowing what to expect from this Scooby-Doo moment. 

A second later, the head of a girl slightly older than Clarke, and another older girl—more woman than girl, came into view. Clarke sucked in a breath.

 

Omegas.

 

“Oh, there you are! We have been looking everywhere for you!” The light, accented voice speaking in Gonasleng is a welcome revelation.

 

The speaker is a very tanned Omega with wild red tresses that have been braided back from her face in a similar style to Anya’s. Her cheeks and bare shoulders are spattered with freckles, but it’s the golden honey of her eyes that give Clarke pause. Her thin lips quirk up into a fond smile. Her form is covered by a lovely pale yellow dress that wraps around her chest and shoulders in a Romanesque style that stops midway at her shins. She is shoeless. She is lovely.

The second Omega that has yet to speak, does not offer Clarke a friendly word, but a tight lipped smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Dark wavy locks flow over one side of her equally tan shoulder. Her eyes are a pale grey with a hint of blue, and seem to reflect the light from the purpling sky. Her face is less full than the amicable Omega, and her delicate jaw is decorated with intricate tribal work that extends down the side of her neck. This woman is clad in dark leather pants, just like Clarke’s, and a soft green shirt drapes over her shoulders and cuts off at her midriff, showing off a fit stomach. 

As Clarke observes these strange Omegas, they take the initiative and walk towards her. When they are about a foot away, Clarke takes in the scent more fully on their clothing and in the air around them.

 

Definitely Omega. One mated, one not.

 

The red haired Omega reaches to clasp Clarke’s right hand in between both of her own.

 

“Hello, young one.” The enthusiastic Omega addresses Clarke sincerely.

 

Clarke stares for a moment before recovering herself. She has never met another Omega near her age and she can’t stop a rush of affection for these two alien wolves.

 

“Hei.”

 

The tanned girl smiles widely. “I am Luna kom Floukru, and this—” Luna pulls at the other Omega’s shirt. “—this is Kostia kom Trishana.”

 

Luna is a whole hand taller than Clarke, while Costia is only perhaps an inch or two above her height.

Clarke swallows and easily lets a smile of her own slide onto her face as she takes in these fellow Omegas.

 

“It is wonderful to meet you Luna, and you as well, Costia. My name is Clarke Griffin, but you can call me Clarke.”

 

Luna beams at her while Costia tips her head and hums noncommittally. Costia doesn’t seem very interested in meeting another Omega, not like Luna. Clarke does not let this dissuade her from this meeting.

 

“What do I owe the pleasure of this visit? My door is locked from the outside. I am probably not supposed to receive visitors.” Clarke remarks playfully. Luna’s aura is charming and it’s hard not to return her jovial attitude.

 

“Sha, you are undeniably correct, Klark. We heard of another Omega’s immanent arrival - an Omega that took part in the _Chase_ , and I found myself…” Luna releases Clarke’s hand after squeezing it cordially. “…very curious.”

 

Clarke chuckles softly. “Well, here I am.” Her arms raise to exemplify her words.

 

“Yes.” Costia cuts in. “Here _you_ are.”

 

Luna sends an admonishing glare Costia’s way before turning back to Clarke. “Don’t mind her, she’s just upset to be called back to the capital.”

 

That peaks Clarke’s interest. “You were called here? But I thought all Omegas lived in Polis.”

 

Clarke wants to ask Costia what clan she resides in now - Trishana, Luna said? - and who her mate is. Did Costia perform this Chase ritual too? Perhaps she could help answer Clarke's questions. Clarke desperately wants to ask but by the countenance of the slender, aloof Omega, Costia probably would not answer her.

 

“Only unmated Omegas reside in the capital, Klark. Mated Omegas travel to whatever territory their mate belongs to. Everyone knows this.” Luna tilts her head at Clarke, her gold eyes drinking the blonde in. “Now I am truly curious about you, Klark kom…?

 

Clarke pauses, unsure if she should answer Luna’s question. “Skai.”

 

Luna’s eyes widen in delight and Clarke shrugs half heartedly. Everyone will know soon enough anyway. Lexa had said there would be a large summit just to discuss her landing after all.

 

“Klark kom Skai, I believe I will enjoy getting to know you.” Luna’s golden eyes twinkle in a clearly pleased demeanor.

 

Clarke opens her mouth to say more, but the noticeable scent of Alpha interrupts their small gathering.

All three Omegas turn back to the slanted bookcase, and see a smirking Ontari leaning lazily against the frame, arms crossed over her chest.

 

“Don’t stop because of me, please continue.” Her raspy voice, also accented, but heavier than Luna’s and with a sharper bite, feels too loud in the still room.

 

Clarke’s nose flares at the relatively soft Alpha scent, now free of the copper tang of blood, coming from the Azgeda wolf. It’s not as unwelcome as she had expected it to be. She must be getting used to scenting other wolves.

 

Luna takes a step forward before settling her hands on her hips in a challenging manner. “And what, _pray tell_ , is an Azgeda Alpha doing in an Omega’s quarters on _Omega_ floors? You know Alphas are not welcome on these levels - not without Beta escorts.”

 

Luna’s tone is sharp as a pin prick and the protective lilt of her fellow Omegas surprises Clarke. She has just met Luna but Clarke is happily growing fond of the thought of a future friendship with this Floukru wolf. 

Ontari lets out a good-humored growl, not taking the challenge in Luna seriously at all despite Luna’s frustrated glare. The Azgeda Alpha waves her hand in a dallying attempt at mollifying her.

 

“Calm yourself water wolf. Just like you, I merely wanted to give the newest Omega in the coalition a proper welcome to Polis. I have been told introductions _are_ the staple of building a civilized relationship among our clans.”

 

Luna bristles, clearly not about to let an Alpha stay where they are forbidden. Costia hasn’t budged an inch. Ontari’s eyes move from Luna to Clarke.

 

“Hello again, Prisa.”

 

Clarke holds her chin at an angle and her shoulders subconsciously straighten as she steps in front of Luna.

 

“I _know_ who you are, Ontari kom Azgedakru.” Clarke’s voice is steady and clear.

 

Ontari’s eyes brighten as her brows raise and she bites at her lower lip trying to hold back an amused smile. Clarke impulsively wants to smack it off her face. “You may know my name, Klark kom Skai, but you do not _know_ who I am.”

 

A heavy silence stretches between them as the wolves size each other up from across the room. 

Suddenly a pounding on the door is heard before the undeniable whiff of Beta bursts into the quarters. Anya and Lincoln halt as soon as they cross the threshold, growling at the scene before them.

 

“Alphas are not permitted here, Azgeda wolf.” Anya grinds out as she fixes a harsh glare on the intruder.

 

Ontari drowsily rolls her eyes. “You can’t blame an Alpha for trying, not with these spit-fires roaming around the tower.”

 

Anya’s sharp footsteps slap across the stone floor as she harshly wraps a hand around Ontari’s bicep and practically drags the grinning Alpha from the room.

 

Clarke steps forward to aid the Beta but is blocked by a regretful looking Lincoln. She can hear the rising displeasure in Anya’s voice as she pulls the Alpha through the doorway.

 

“Your _Queen_ has requested your presence in the great hall.”

 

Anya yanks Ontari out into the hallway and spins the younger girl against the door with a smack, pinning her against it as Anya’s hand grasps the front of the Alpha’s shirt roughly. The Beta General snarls threateningly in the Alpha’s face.

 

“You _WILL_ leave swiftly. You will _NOT_ return to these floors or speak with any of the Omegas unless you are given strict permission from your Heda. Is that understood, Ice whelp?”

 

Ontari grimaces and pushes the Beta forcefully away, smoothing out the collar of her shirt once she is freed.

 

“If Heda wishes to keep her prize, perhaps she should not leave her so unprotected. Klark is lucky it was I that was here, and not some knot-brained skrish (shit) Alpha kom Trishana—or worse _kom Trikru_.”

 

Ontari can see Anya about to take the bait, when the voice of the Commander rings out over them.

 

“Is there a problem here?”

 

The commanding Alpha looks from her General to the Azgeda gona, her irises piercing through Ontari’s mock ruse. Gustus stands off to Heda’s side, barely restraining himself from growling as his wolf itches to do.

 

Anya bows her head submissively and steps back, while Ontari takes her sweet time, bending her neck at the barest amount of acceptable degree before looking up.

 

“No problem here, Heda. A simple misunderstanding.” The words roll evenly from Azgeda lips.

 

Lexa does not seem convinced or phased, and her face is a hardened mask of stone, graced with her traditional war paint. “See that it stays that way, and that you do not find yourself lost in _misunderstanding_ on this floor again. Now come - you and your Azplana have wasted enough of my time this today.”

 

The Commander whips around, her red sash floating just behind her heels as Heda’s light footsteps echo briskly down the corridor, taking the Azgeda source of commotion away from the Omega quarters.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the reviews and kudos! :) I'm off this weekend for Pride so no update until tomorrow evening, possibly Monday at the latest.
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'Touch' by MAALA


	9. The Summit (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa centric chapter.
> 
> Internal politics. 
> 
> The Summit (part one).
> 
> The Ice Queen is a bitter, bitter lady.
> 
> Clexa has a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

**Nine**  

 

 

_[A few hours earlier.]_

 

 

Lexa storms past her guards lining the tower corridors, her feet take her swiftly to the great hall where her audience is awaiting her.

Her irritation and worry are concealed firmly behind a mask of confident indifference. Her footsteps are quick and light, though they convey her arrival perfectly as the large wooden doors to the hall are hastily thrown open; the resounding slam of the wood against the stone walls reverberate down the length of her arms and legs.

 

Lexa is tired and she is angry. This meeting’s purpose is a fallacy and cannot be indulged longer than necessary. Heda won’t allow it and neither will the Alpha.

 

The Alpha deftly crosses the length of the room. She passes all its inhabitants without a glance in their direction, staring straight ahead as she strides to the platform where her throne is stationed. Her aura cuts through the sea of Alpha and Beta musk like a sword through stretched, tan hide.

 

The result is instantaneous.

 

The hall becomes deathly silent. The tension in the air feels like a weight as it settles over all within the great room.

 

They are waiting on her.

 

 _Let them_ , Heda commands.

 

The light from the afternoon sun bathes the back of the Commander’s chair with its intense rays through the open balcony before her. The Alpha allows herself a moment to look outward over her beloved city. It is Lexa that chooses to close her eyes as she breathes it in deep, and it is Heda who opens them as she calmly exhales out. 

Heda gracefully turns around on the platform, facing all of the coalition’s leaders, delegates and necessary ambassadors, before elegantly settling upon her honored seat. She draws comfort and strength from the twisting antlers enshrining her before the wolves. Her figure is small upon the great throne but exudes the power of her Alpha.

 

One by one, they all bend a knee to her dominant display and rightly earned status.

 

Heda’s gaze travels over them all. Each clan leader has been summoned here along with two delegates of their choosing and one Polis bound ambassador. Her spine becomes painfully erect and her shoulders feel as steel when she spies the Azgeda Kwen front and center. The Ice Queen’s Alpha stench makes her nose burn. Her two Beta companions do not smell much better. Heda notes that the Azplana’s newly appointed ambassador is missing. _Interesting._

Heda lifts the prevalent air, and the coalition leaders rise to breath a little easier. She addresses them with a soft, even voice; the voice she adopts when speaking with the manipulative and placating grace of a politician.

 

“Hail, bro en sis kom kongeda (Hail, brothers and sisters of the coalition.)”

 

“Hail, Heda kom Jus (Hail, Commander of the Blood).” The delegates echo back to her.

 

Heda motions for her Beta advisor, and Flamekeeper, to commence the Summit.

 

Titus bows his head and descends the few steps from the platform to stand before the gathered leaders, his ceremonial robes trailing behind him. His arms are bent at the elbow and hidden in the sleeves from the opposite arm. His voice is strong and reflects the power of his station.

 

“Who calls for this Summit, and what have you to say for demanding your Heda and your fellow clan leaders to come before you? Speak plainly and without falsehood before the Moon’s grace!”

 

The room seems to hold its breath in a collective vacuum. The disapproval in Titus’ tone is reproachful as if he were disciplining a goufa (child). No one summons Heda. 

The clip of an eager heel announces that the instigator has stepped forward through the crowd. As anticipated it is the Azplana Alpha, Nia. The woman looks the same as she did years ago, all sharp angles and bitterness soaked into a power hungry wolf. Heda narrows her eyes slightly, but keeps the rest of her face void of emotion.

 

“The _request_ for Heda and the Summit would be mine, Fleimkepa.” The Azplana states with a voice bordering on insolence. 

 

Lexa’s wolf snorts inwardly, as Heda’s eyes look down upon Nia with a knowing glint. If the Azplana hopes to catch her off guard a second time, she will be sorely mistaken. Lexa is no longer a fifteen year old wolfling, still more pup than wolf, and naive to politics and the sway of her instincts.

 

Gustos had informed her of Nia’s bullying attempts towards the other clans into this day's Summit. She knows of the Queen’s agenda; she knows and she seethes. She feels too old and too young to play these games of petty revenge that stemmed from a long dead conflict of the Queen's own making.

Titus senses her unease and grips the sleeves of his robe in his fists as his Beta wolf begins mediation. “The summit recognizes Queen Nia kom Azgeda. Explain yourself and position before this coalition, and your Heda. Speak only truth.”

 

The Azplana hides a sneer with a tight lipped smile. “I believe we all know why we are here, Fleimkepa.” Nia looks around the great hall as she leads into her speech. “There has been a disservice performed right under the coalition’s muzzle, and by our commanding Alpha no less.”

 

The delegates from the clans begin to murmur amongst each other.

 

“You fall short of your title this day _, Alpha Commander_.”

 

Heda waves away the Azplana’s minimal challenge with a bored drawl.

 

“Your hollow words mean little, Nia. Speak true or not at all. A leader's time is precious.”

 

“As you wish. The winter winds carry more than just scent. It carries information as well. I _know_ of your recent claim. I _know_ of the Omega you brought back with you, Heda.”

 

Lexa lifts her chin defiantly as the murmuring of 'claim' and 'Omega' becomes louder.

 

“Ice Nation received word that our commanding Alpha claimed an unknown and unmated Omega for Trikru during an unannounced Chase under this past moon.”

 

The hackles on Lexa’s Alpha begin to raise, and the corner of her lips twitch. “Yes. I did claim an Omega for Trikru, and for myself.”

 

“A Chase no other clan was aware of, nor invited to, isn’t that correct? I believe that the governing rules concerning the Chase are quite clear, as are the ramifications of breaking them. That rule—”

 

“—That rule is irrelevant in this particular case. The claim could not be announced. There were extenuating circumstances surrounding the Omega’s lineage and arrival in Trikru territory. Therefore it became a Trikru matter only.”

 

“Ah, _Heda_ , here is where we avidly disagree. We, of the coalition, agreed upon the rules of the Chase so that each clan could potentially benefit from an Omega's presence. By keeping the Chase to only Trikru knowledge, you have robbed eleven clans of their right to participate—their right to an Omega's prosperity.”

 

The Ice Queen boldly steps forward and Gustus growls lowly in his throat. A clear warning that the Queen should approach no further.

 

“As ruler of the Ice Nation and part of this land’s great coalition of peace, it would be disgraceful of me not to act on this information. To hide it would dishonor my fellow clansmen who trust in us all to uphold our word, especially when bargains made for the good of the coalition come at such a high personal cost. What say you members of the kongeda?”

 

Lexa’s lips form a thin line at the Azplana’s not so subtle mockery of her past. The Queen’s sudden self-righteousness is anything but humbling. However, Lexa knows the point of this superior rant.

 

“The representatives of Ouskejon Kru (Blue Cliff Clan) agree with Azgeda.”

 

“The delegates from Sankru (Desert Clan) second this.”

 

“Yujleda (Broadleaf).”

 

"Boudalan agrees (Rock Line)."

 

“Louwoda Kliron (Shadow Valley) as well.”

 

And there it is.

 

Lexa feels the steep drop of her stomach. The ‘point’ is just as sharp as she had expected. The smugness radiating off of the Azplana wolf is maddening and the Queen is doing nothing to hide it from her. Her two hulking delegates stand confidently behind her. 

The commanding Alpha looks over the various ruling faction leaders and her kongeda’s ambassadors crammed inside the great hall. Some, like the Azplana and her allies, look victoriously smug while others keep their eyes to the floor, refusing to even meet their Heda’s disappointed gaze.

 

 _Cowards and sheep_ , her head hisses.

 

This is what rules the coalition when the storms roll in. Lexa heaves inside Heda’s composed countenance.

 

“The Ice Nation demands that Heda’s claim during the Chase be rendered void. We demand that the Omega be brought before us, or we will retrieve her ourselves.”

 

Heda abruptly snarls and it’s like a dam has burst in the Alpha and let out the violent rush of a thunderous river. Clan members whimper and a few drop to their knees under the Alpha’s sudden rage. 

The blood beneath the Alpha’s skin is calling for her to roar out her rule and right to her claim, to make an example of every one within her sight, force them to the edge of breaking on their knees as she greedily rips out the Azplana’s throat with her Alpha's fangs. Her wolf aches to clench her jaws around the vile monarch’s neck; to hang on until she feels the sharp points of her wolf’s fangs connect through the saturated flesh in a sickening crunch. The Alpha yearns to feel that snap, that unnatural pop of vertebrae ensuring the Queen’s expedited and brutal end.

 

Heda feels nothing.

 

The Alpha feels viciously justified.

 

And now both parts of her understand as she sits stiffly on the throne.

 

 _This_ is what it feels like to have her Alpha, the truest form of her wolf, defend a claim - this is what it feels like to defend a mate. _To defend Clarke_ , her heart whispers. 

 

Heda’s Alpha dims and she calmly raises her slender arm, her lifted hand silencing the now recovering delegates once again. The Azplana barrels through the wordless command.

 

“The rules of the Chase are to be honored by _every_ wolf—including all leaders!  _That_ is our way. Even _Heda_ is not above the Moon’s law.”

 

Lexa barely holds back a murderous glare as the hands resting on her throne’s arms threaten to crack the wood beneath her fingers. She is about to retort when Titus intercedes.

 

“Let us take a brief recess, Heda. We could all use the respite to think upon all of this information. It would also provide those whose delegation party is not _fully_ present," Titus shoots the Azgeda Queen a side long glare, "time to collect all of its members to continue this Summit.”

 

Heda relaxes minutely into her chair and gives a sharp nod. Heda and Lexa are in tangles. Her Alpha needs to see Clarke. She has claimed Clarke and Clarke is hers. The Alpha readily stands; the coalition members bow their heads as she descends the steps of the platform. 

 

“We will adjourn from this Summit for half a candle mark. Return and do not be late.”

  

* * *

 

_[Present]_

 

 

Lexa can feel the residual adrenaline abandoning her veins as she leaves the Summit counsel. The shouting and bickering had gone on late into the night. Each clan had finally voiced their opinion of the Chase and argued over the validity of her claim. In the end, they had decided to end for the night and pick up again tomorrow at one candle mark passed dawn. 

Lexa’s wolf had been snarling and furious, but all Heda could expose was a distant displeasure.

 

She had explained Clarke’s arrival in Trikru territory, and touched upon the Omega’s origins, which had sparked a calamity of an argument in itself. Oddly enough, the fact Clarke descended from the sky was less an issue of importance - brushed aside in favor of her Omega benefit for each clan. 

Heda had divulged the Omega’s sudden oncoming heat - received numerous envious and angered glares - and pushed the importance of the Trikru securing the lost girl away from the Valley kom Maun-de. Logically, her decision made sense. However, Lexa had never heard of competitive Alphas, especially those involved in politics, giving into logic over the opportunity for tangible gains. In this case, the opportunity to knot and mate her Clarke. Lexa wanted to retch. These wolves cared not for Clarke - the beautiful blonde who was kind to children, who took the time to talk to craftsmen, who had an affinity for the arts, and who could rival Anya's stubbornness and hold her own in battle of wits. They cared not for who Clarke was. They merely heard 'Omega' and went into a frenzy.

 

The attractive opportunity for their clan was too good to pass up. They had to cast in their furs.

 

Suddenly her jacket and sash are too confining. It’s too tight and she almost tears her coat trying to get the stiff fabric off of her arms. The Alpha dons a lightweight tunic instead and sighs as the air cools her heated flesh. Wiping her face free of her war paint, the Alpha exhales loudly into her still apartment.

Lexa rubs a calloused hand over her face, careful of her symbolic gear, as she leans against the wall of her sleeping chambers. She finds herself once again, thinking of a blonde Omega.

 

She wonders what Clarke is doing now.

 

Did she like riding through Polis earlier? What were her favorite sights? Would she say yes if Lexa offered to give her a tour of the city? Would she acclimate to the people and a life as Heda's mate if the ritual was upheld? 

How had she met the other Omegas (Probably Luna's doing no doubt), and what was that _Azgeda_ Alpha doing in her chambers?

 

_Ontari._

 

Lexa surprises herself when a feral growl rips free from her throat and a wave of possessiveness ripples through her person.

 

Before the Alpha realizes, she is standing before Clarke’s door, a bit dumbfounded and more than a tad nervous at arriving here. 

Placing her palm flat against the wooden barrier, Lexa can almost feel the Omega through the door. Lexa scents the air and shivers. Clarke’s scent is strong and comforting, wrapping around the Alpha wolf and pulling her in - as it had since the beginning.

 

Her knuckles rap lightly on the door as her heart beats loudly in her ears.

 

She instantly releases a breath when she hears Clarke’s voice bidding her entrance. Unhooking the latch, the Alpha pushes the door open and steps slowly into the room.

The space is dimly lit, a soothing glow of familiar candles flicker across the walls and floors. The room looks more alive than Lexa remembers, more inviting and palatable although she knows nothing in the room itself has changed.

 

It’s the occupant that has altered everything, even the Alpha. _This visit is not wise_ , Heda prods, _you should leave now_.

 

Lexa's heart squashes Heda's input as she watches Clarke.

 

Clarke is wrapped in the white fur from Tondisi, propped up onto the window's ledge watching the night life of Polis fade and flow.

Lexa forgets how to breath as she traces her eyes over Clarke’s features. The way the light from the moon haloes her fair hair, how the white light highlights the curve of her nose and the dip in her chin. And when those penetrating blues, slightly dimmed from exhaustion, seek out her captivated green eyes, Lexa feels her lungs expand once again. This is what she had needed - to see Clarke.

 

“Lexa.”

 

The Alpha bids her legs to carry her forward, and in a few strides, she kneels opposite the Omega, content to just look at her; to watch the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, or the way her irises grow as she takes in Lexa’s scent.

 

“Klark,” Lexa softly breathes out.

 

The Omega eyes her curiously and obviously sleepily before nodding to herself. She offers Lexa a saddened smile and cocks her head to lean against the frame of the window, fighting her drooping eyelids. 

Lexa feels a burst of affection curl inside her at Clarke’s attempt to stay awake while she is here, and the longing urge to comfort the troubled Omega. The Alpha reaches a hand out to push a stray strand of blonde behind the Omega’s ear, and purrs loudly when Clarke leans into her touch. The feel of Clarke’s cheek against her hand is electric and so warm. She loves being able to be like this with Clarke. She knows Clarke must have unlimited questions regarding Polis. Clarke must be questioning everything she knew about Lexa as well.

The Alpha cringes internally. Her actions towards the Omega during their travels were not her finest. Lexa is slightly ashamed. Heda deemed it necessary. Her Alpha simply yearned to protect.

 

Clarke’s eyes finally flutter to a close and her shoulders slant under the control of her newly earned sleep.

 

Lexa keeps her hand against the blonde’s cheek, softly running her thump across Clarke’s skin. It is a strange yet wonderful sort of intimacy to watch Clarke sleep.

 

When the Alpha sees the beginning signs of Clarke squirming too much to remain balanced on the window frame, she deftly picks Clarke up in her arms. Lexa carries the blonde the few steps over to the bed she had specially lined with the best furs and blankets Polis could offer. 

As Lexa lowers Clarke to the top bundle of furs, one of the Omega’s hands grips onto the Alpha’s light tunic and pulls. Lexa looks up to Clarke’s face, which betrays nothing but a sleeping girl. Unsure of how to act, Lexa gently places her hand over the fist Clarke has in her shirt, and tries to get the Omega to loosen her hold. When she pries herself free, the Omega whines and tucks her hands close to her chest as if trying to keep them close to her own heart. 

Lexa feels her Alpha purring under her skin, wanting to be closer to Clarke but not wanting to intrude upon her needed rest. She moves away to leave the Omega's room.

 

A small hand reaches out and grasps her wrist and Lexa eyes it curiously. Blue eyes are open and clear. She wishes she could read the emotions caught in the Omega's mesmerizing gaze. Clarke is focused on her and the rapt attention is addictive to her wolf.

 

“Ste, beja (Stay, please).” The small request is accompanied by the sweet scent of berries and warm spring honey.

 

Her wrist is tugged lightly, and the Alpha breaks and gives in. Lexa climbs onto the bed, and quickly curls onto her side opposite Clarke as they face each other. They lay on separate pillows but the space between their noses couldn’t be more than a hand’s width. Lexa loves it, and basks in the warmth spreading through her—the rightness of this refuge doesn’t escape her or her wolf.

 

She wonders if Clarke feels it too. Her heart immediately beats faster under her breast at this hope.

 

The Omega’s eyes are closed once again. Lexa can feel Clarke’s wolf languidly accepting the comfort of her Alpha’s presence - entrusting the Alpha with this vulnerable moment; entrusting Lexa to protect her while she sleeps. Lexa wants to preen under this realization, but knows it would be premature. Even so, she is unable to stop herself from cautiously leaning in and nudging Clarke’s nose with her own - lightly nuzzling against the dozing Omega. Clarke gives a full bodied sigh and shifts closer to the Alpha’s body, her hands unconsciously reaching out to grasp at Lexa’s shirt once again as her head maneuvers under Lexa's jaw.

 

This time Lexa doesn’t move to stop it. She is granted so few quiet and comforting moments in her life - it is precious and rare to experience one such as this.

 

The Alpha closes her own eyes, delighted to feel Clarke burrowing further into her neck as her own skin becomes coated in the Omega’s scent and softness.

 

Tomorrow she must go back to being Heda and fight for their Chase and claim. Tomorrow Anya will tell Clarke of what the Chase is in its entirety, including the rules to which all wolves must abide by - the rules that Heda bent for Clarke. And for Lexa. Tomorrow all of this will come to light, but for now, Lexa has Clarke and that is enough for her as she slips into a dreamless sleep while conforming her body against the blonde's.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this shortly after getting back from Pride and watching Game of Thrones (holy CRAP season finale).
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'Delilah' by Florence and the Machine


	10. Fight and Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up people 'cause here. We. Go!
> 
> Clarke centric chapter.
> 
> Training with Anya.
> 
> A LOT of information coming your way.
> 
> Prepare thyself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Ten **

 

  

_“Why do you run, Clarke? Where do you run to so fast, kiddo?”_

_White streaked across the sky in a blaze of erupting constellations colliding with a strength in the darkness._

_“Why do you run, Clarke?”_

 

_"RUN!"_

Clarke jolts awake as an unexpected flood of adrenaline surges through her veins. She frantically looks around herself, half expecting to see the white fur of her wolf and the extension of a full tail greeting her sight.

Her arms and legs are tense and she feels clammy and damp from the sweat prickling over her skin. The furs tangled in her feet feel constraining and she hastily kicks them off from her bed.

 

A shaky hand raises to cover her mouth as she attempts to stifle the whimpers catching in her throat. Her father’s voice rings in her ears and the familiarity of his scent seems to follow her even into waking. His gentle face disappears from beneath her eyelids as tears threaten to escape down her cheeks.

The ghost of her sire’s presence fades from the room.

 

Clarke looks over to the opposite side of the bed where the sheets lay pristinely smooth. It is the emptiness she finds strangely unsettling, and when her fingertips reach out to test the furs, they confirm the covers have long been cold.

 

Lexa is gone.

 

The dawn is filtering in through the balcony’s sheer draping, and Polis is beginning to stir. Lexa had probably left to prepare for the conclusion of the Summit meeting hours ago. 

Clarke briefly wonders if the memory of the visiting Alpha has only been her Omega’s wishful thinking. However, the Alpha’s faded scent emanating from the adjacent bedding squashes that theory.

 

Lexa had been here.

 

She had stayed.

 

Clarke swallows down an unnamed emotion in her throat. She can’t help but think of the way Lexa’s pale green eyes had darkened like the forest leaves meeting the night sky; how Lexa looked at her as Clarke sat beside the window – as if Clarke had been named the very moon instead of the luminescent orb hanging in the sky. It’s the way the Alpha had tenderly wrapped Clarke up in her arms while they had slept beside one another, and the way Clarke’s heart throbbed in her chest when Lexa had brushed her nose across her own. 

The sun peaks over the hills surrounding Polis, and Clarke shakes the sluggishness from her limbs as she lifts from the bed. She props herself on the edge and looks out at the city as light paints her face in orange, golden hues.

 

Tomorrow has come.

  

* * *

  

About two hours later, a solid knock on the door gains Clarke’s attention. She calls for the visitor to enter, and smiles when Anya steps inside from the corridor.

 

“Hei, Anya.”

 

Her smile falters as the Beta walks over to Clarke with a careful tread. Anya’s face is marked by dark circles of coal surrounding her eyes - war paint – she looks a bit older because of it and holds herself more like the Trikru General one would expect.

 

The Beta offers no reaction to her greeting.

 

Concern washes over Clarke as she sits curled into the love-seat near the balcony. She can’t help the ripple of gooseflesh from trailing up her spine as Anya stops next to her, and gives a sharp jerk of her chin towards the hallway.

 

“Come, Klark. It is time.”

 

The Beta abruptly turns and leaves the room before a very confused Clarke realizes what has just happened. The blonde scrambles to her feet, and jogs after Anya, catching up to her half way down the hallway. She doesn’t know if she should speak. Anya seems unusually tense and Clarke does not wish to agitate her further, so she follows swiftly and silently. The two make their way down a few floors of the tower before descending from the elevator and arriving into a cloistered area that appears to be a well-used training ground.

 

The disruption from Clarke’s shoes puffs upwards into small clouds of dust that disperse onto the large, open field.

 

Suddenly a wooden pole – a staff – engulfs Clarke’s line of sight, and it nearly smacks into her head as she flails out to grab it.

 

The Omega looks up, staff in hand, to tell the Beta off for the rude awakening, when a blur of dusky blonde hair and the whistle of a something coming towards her snaps her senses into action. 

Clarke somehow blocks the staff Anya wields with her own, her two hands gripping the wood tightly above her head as the vibration from the impact stings painfully down the through the bones in Clarke’s hands and arms.

 

She grunts with the effort to keep Anya from pushing her into the ground as her knees press harshly into the dirt.

 

“I will train you as I trained Leksa.” The Beta growls.

 

Anya pulls away in a flash and knocks her training staff into Clarke’s side. Her ribs protest immediately as she gasps.

 

Clarke grips her staff harder and stands with her feet shoulder length apart, fully expecting the Beta to charge her again.

 

“You will learn—”

 

Anya darts towards her, the Beta’s staff connecting at an angle with Clarke’s inches from the blonde’s face. She growls in the Beta’s face.

 

The General snarls back and wrenches their staffs free before deftly sweeping hers into an arch.

 

Clarke’s back connects forcefully with the training ground, and she chokes on a gasp as the air is ripped from her lungs.

 

“—or you will fail.”

 

She only has a moment to suck in a sliver of oxygen, as Anya’s staff whips down again, obstructing the blue sky above her.

 

“Chit yu uf (Are you strong)—”

 

Clarke rolls from the trajectory, flinching as she hears the crack of the wood connecting with the ground.

 

“—O chit yu kwelen (Or are you weak)?”

 

The Omega scuttles across the dirt as her staff slips precariously in her sweating palms.

 

As soon as Clarke returns to her feet, she is knocked down once again – this time landing with a thump on her side. She pushes back up and receives a vicious strike to her shoulder, and then to her thigh, followed by the sharp nip to her back. 

Clarke’s eyes flash angrily with the stirring of her wolf; she can feel its influence pushing at the back of her mind as Anya continues to taunt her.

 

“Gon daun pakstoka (Fight wolf)!”

 

Clarke attempts to block the General’s strikes, but the experience of the Beta wolf is overpowering.

 

Anya is precise, and _so_ fast.

 

Before Clarke can make a move, she is immediately disarmed or finds herself sprawled across the ground in a pathetic heap.

 

"I will treat you like an animal until you learn to strike like one. Get up, Klark."

 

Finally, after a particularly hard knock to the floor, the taste of dirt and blood fills Clarke’s mouth. She tediously makes her way up, pushing herself to her knees by her scraped hands as she spits out the copper tainted gravel from her lips. 

As she steadies herself onto her feet, she can feel tremors wracking up her legs from the effort. From the corner of her eye she sees Anya on the move again, and her gaze darts out, searching for her staff.

 

Blue eyes lock onto her target only to realize her staff has been knocked several feet away from reach.

 

She won’t be able to retrieve it in time to counter Anya’s attack.

 

In a matter of seconds, Clarke instinctively gives herself over to the wolf’s impulse and acts. She digs the balls of her feet into the ground, and bends her knees in anticipation. Her body hunches slightly and as she sees the Beta lash out with the staff. Clarke’s torso dips low in her stance, feeling the wind from the staff sweeping over the hair on the back of her neck. 

The Omega releases the tension in her legs and sieges upwards, ramming into the Beta’s front – her shoulder connecting solidly into Anya’s stomach.

 

The Beta grunts and stumbles back a few feet, barely keeping tabs on the staff in her hand.

 

Clarke is panting, she’s covered in a sheen of sweat, her muscles are still coiled under her skin, and her eyes regard the Beta with the intense concentration of a wolf. She can feel her hackles rising with each expanse and deflation of her lungs.

 

Anya straightens her stance and wipes at the blood dripping from her lower lip. The staff must have clipped her when Clarke rushed the General.

 

Clarke expects her to be upset, but the Beta looks pleased – impressed even.

 

“Os, Klark (Good, Clarke).”

 

The Beta locks onto Clarke’s eyes.

 

“Krei os (Very good).”

 

Clarke feels the wolf’s energy draining from her at an alarming rate, making her limbs feel weighed down by invisible blocks of lead. She is suddenly exhausted.

 

“What—what the hell… was _that_?!” Clarke growls out between pants.

 

Anya leans casually on her staff. Her arm is resting on the end as one of her legs bends at the knee behind the other. She does not seem winded at all.

 

“ _That_ , prisa, was your first lesson.”

 

Clarke spits out another mouthful of diluted blood, watching as it stains the dirt.

 

“Your wolf is your weapon and your shield. Let it guide you. Do not allow yourself to be led astray.”

  

* * *

  

After recovering from her first ‘lesson’, Anya takes them back inside to get Clarke cleaned up.

 

The guards and servants they pass offer Clarke curious glances at her disheveled state as they make their way up the winding stairs of the tower. Clarke wishes they would use the elevator, but the Beta believes this a good exercise for Clarke’s muscles. Clarke has a sneaky suspicion Anya just wants to run her into the ground for her own amusement. 

The bruised blonde had grumbled under her breath, but followed the General without complaint.

 

When they reach the fifteenth floor – or was it the sixteenth – Clarke recognizes the set up of the area. This must be the infirmary. 

An older male Alpha, similar in body type to Gustus – beard and all, makes his way over to them as soon as Anya enters the vicinity. He attempts to grab at the Beta’s chin to inspect her cut lip, but the General bats his attentions away.

 

“Not me, fisa (healer). This one - Klark.” Anya lightly shoves Clarke forward.

 

The Omega almost laughs at the shocked face of the Alpha fisa before he gestures for her to sit on one of the many cots positioned around the room.

 

His eyes scan over her for immediate injuries before speaking. “Always you bring me your punching bags, Onya.”

 

The beta scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Just fix her.”

 

“Have you taken another second? Was Heda not enough for you?” The playful lilt in his tone has Clarke relaxing as he skillfully dabs at her forehead with a clothe.

 

“She did a number on you, no?” The healer whispers this to Clarke as if the Beta is not standing three feet away. “I hope you smacked her lip good, little wolf.”

 

Anya screws her face into a petulant scowl and crosses her arms over her chest as if affronted by the comment.

 

“It was a lucky shot. That is all, Naikou.”

 

This time it is Clarke that snorts. “Tell that to your face.”

 

Her sudden outburst has Nyko guffawing, and Anya flicks the back of Clarke’s head with a practiced hand.

 

“I like this one, Onya. She will keep you on your toes.” The healer collects a few bottles and some bandages from a cabinet and brings them over.

 

“Don’t they all?” Anya drawls out her classic sarcastic tone.

 

Nyko chuckles as he wraps Clarke’s wrist and applies a cream to soothe some of the bruising on her ribs.

 

The Alpha healer is gentle and kind. Clarke likes him. He smells of the forest like most of the Trikru wolves she’s encountered, but his scent carries the expected whiff of various herbs and organic remedies.

 

She finds herself wondering if he would have gotten along with her mother had he been a doctor on the Ark.

 

The thought passes quickly enough.

 

Clarke bids Nyko a good day and thanks him for his help.

 

Soon she and Anya are on the move again – the Beta powering ahead while Clarke trails after her.

  

* * *

  

They climb up two more flights of stairs and enter a room with a high vaulted ceiling that must extend upwards into several floors of the tower. A large round table is situated in the center of the room. On the wall to the immediate right hangs an enormous canvas that covers more than half of the stone.

 

On the canvas is a map.

 

Clarke scans over the detailed illustration, tracing over far off mountain tops, miles of forest and rolling hills, over rivers and the numerous unknown names of established towns and cities.

 

Amazing.

 

Here is the known world – all inked in permanence upon a wall and laid bare before her.

 

As she glances around the rest of the room, Clarke can’t help but gasp at the giant bookcases surrounding the great mapped wall. They are layered upon one another and stretch high up to the barely visible ceiling above. Some seem to go on forever, while others are split by levels and gated walkways. The smell of aged parchment and worn leather engulfs this room.

 

Clarke finds comfort in it.

 

She marvels at the amount of collective knowledge that must be kept in this single place.

 

Her day dreaming is broken by a resounding smack from the central table. Anya has hefted a large, random book from a shelf and basically dropped it from her height down onto the wood below. Clarke wants to scold her for the poor book’s treatment.

 

The Beta waves her over and Clarke obeys.

 

Anya stand at the table’s edge as she flips open the book without looking for anything in particular, and points to a cluster of wording on the page.

 

“Rid op.” Anya sighs as Clarke gives her a perplexed look. The Beta translates.

 

“Read.”

 

Clarke looks down at the worn paper and follows the black text typed across the page. Her eyes brighten in recognition. It’s a work of fiction; one that she knows very well.

 

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

 

The Omega’s fingers ghost over the yellowed parchment – awed by the mere existence of this literature and unable to bring herself to touch it in case it disappeared. 

When she looks up, Anya is studying her with a careful scrutiny. After a minute the Beta seems satisfied.

 

“Os.” The General states more to herself than to Clarke.

 

The Beta closes the book, and marches back over to the bookcase. Clarke looks on with longing as Brontë is returned to her home among the countless other novels. The General pulls up a chair, and pushes one in Clarke’s direction. Once seated, Anya relaxes somewhat and extended her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles.

 

“This is Polis Library, Klark,” The Beta wiggles a hand over her head, “There are more books here from the old world than in any other place in the coalition. Some are lost to dead languages, while the majority are written in Gonasleng – in _English_ as our Telonkepa (Word keeper) calls it.”

 

Clarke rests her hands on the table, absently feeling the dips and curves of the engravings under her fingertips.

 

“There are very few who can read these words, Klark. Mountains of knowledge and most of it will never be known.”

 

Anya focuses her attention on the blonde sitting next to her. “When you are not training with me I want you here, learning all you can. Learn, and use this gift wisely. Do you understand?”

 

Clarke looks back to the rows upon rows of untouched books, still a little breathless. She nods in agreement. She would find her way back here whether Anya wanted her to or not.

 

The Beta relaxes even more at her acquiescence. Clarke swallows and brings her hands to her lap.

 

“Will you tell me about the rules of the Chase now?”

 

Anya eyes her almost tiredly, and with a grim line to her mouth.

 

“I know that’s what the Summit is about. Lexa told me as much. She said you would tell me the rest.”

 

The Beta huffs. “Of course she did.”

 

Silence stretches between them for a beat before the General stands from her chair. Clarke moves to follow but Anya holds up her hand.

 

“If I am to go through this then I wish to be comfortable.”

 

The Beta drags over a small wooden stool with a cushioned top. Anya plops back down into her seat and hoists her feet onto the stool.

 

“Teik oso stot au (Let us begin).”

  

* * *

  

Clarke groans as she practically falls face first into the furs covering her bed, collapsing under the weight of the day. The Omega is absolutely depleted and relishes the softness under her cheek. 

Her thoughts are racing. Three hours of learning and debating has left a plethora of information rattling around inside her head. It was all a substantial bite to swallow.

 

Anya had done her best to explain what Clarke was up against as an Omega. The Beta dutifully answered every question and repeated pieces of the Chase without fuss or irritation. 

Clarke could tell that Anya was actually doing this for her out of a desire to help, rather than out of obligation.

 

That fact helped.

 

As she watches the sun set over Polis with a distant eye, her mind replays specific portions of their earlier conversation.

 

* * *

  

_[Three hours ago]_

 

 

“The rules of the Chase are resolute and unyielding. They were passed down to us along with the rules to guide a wolf’s first shift by the Moon spirit. Once the Chase has begun, it cannot be stopped. It is a sacred choice. Not a passing whim.”

 

Anya leans back into the chair and begins speaking as if she were reciting a letter by memory.

 

“As you know, only an Omega can initiate the Chase and it must fall under a full moon. Since our few known Omegas cannot time their heats specifically to the moon’s cycle, this ritual is almost never enacted. Even though Omegas do exist amongst the clans, they do have the option not to undergo the Chase even if their heat befalls a full moon by some chance of fate.

 

After an Omega chooses to participate in the Chase, all twelve clans are notified of the oncoming ritual so that each faction has equal opportunity to the claim. By choosing to be a part of this ritual, the Omega understands the risks of being claimed by _any_ clan that joins the homplei (hunt).”

 

The Beta takes a long and well deserved breath, heaving out the rest under the same sober deliverance.  

 

“Once heat has fully set in and the call has been sent out, the Omega waits for the potential suitors to arrive. At the first sign of an Alpha or Beta, the Omega shifts and sets off into a run – thus officially prompting the start of the Chase. The competing Alphas and Betas engage in pursuit until the victorious wolf catches the Omega and claims her for their clan.”

 

Understanding seeps into the blonde’s features. When she had spotted Lexa across the lake and shifted to escape, _she_ had started everything in motion. Lexa had had no choice but to go after her, and now the Alpha was stuck in this mess - stuck with Clarke. She had been so angry with Lexa over the Chase - hell, she still is to some extent, but now there's this grey area where before it had seemed so black and white.

 

Clarke feels slightly sick to her stomach, and she grips her hands into the fabric covering her thighs.

 

This is all her doing – it’s her fault. Freaking Chase ritual and her Omega biology - the perfect fucking storm.

 

She reviews Anya’s tale and stops as an obstacle halts her train of thought. Her lips purse together thinly before voicing her question.

 

“The Chase is supposed to join an Alpha and Omega – why do the Betas compete if they cannot fulfill the claim?”

 

Anya stretches out her arms and laces her fingers together atop her jacket.

 

“Betas may compete in the Chase on behalf of their clan’s leader. Having an Omega in a clan, even if the leader is Beta has its usefulness, Klark. Bragging rights, bargaining chips, it matters not what it is named as long as the winning clan has the Omega advantage over the others. An Alpha winning the Chase and taking the claim is the most ideal option. The union of Alpha and Omega brings balance to the clan if the match is agreeable.”

 

Anya stares at the blonde, a serious expression plastered onto her face.

 

Her eyes are piercing.

 

“Omegas are rare and they are special. And because they are special, they hold a certain amount of power – you have power here, Klark.”

 

“And power is everything for a leader's success.” Clarke finishes the Beta’s thought.

 

Anya nods sagely and releases a weary sigh as if she already knows how all of this will end.

 

“This is why you are here, Klark. As I told you in Heda’s tent, you present a very real risk to yourself and to Lexa.”

 

Clarke sinks dejectedly back into her seat and looks down at her lap, soaking in Anya’s tactile warning. Her brow furrows under this information. Lexa had said Clarke _belonged_ to her after the Chase. Clarke had taken that to mean that she was being _owned_ \- being looked at as a treasured object and nothing more. Lexa doesn't look at you like that, her Omega prods. Clarke sighs. If Lexa knew of this risk, was that statement of ownership Lexa's odd way of telling Clarke she was being protected from the fallout of her accidental Chase?

 

_Fuck, I feel like a royal ass._

 

This new information did not make up for how Lexa's treatment of her as of late, but maybe it played into it. Maybe Lexa kept pushing her away because of this - because Clarke hadn't known all the details and did not have the proper knowledge to know what she had been getting into. Her Omega stifles a growl in her throat. _My_ _ignorance of all these rules and proprieties is_ _definitely Lexa's fault. She could have explained all of this and I CAN be upset with her for failing me that much._

 

She looks back to Anya with one more question on her lips.

 

“Anya, if the Chase can cause so much internal turmoil between clans, why is it allowed? Why would an Omega choose to go through this if it causes so much trouble?”

 

Anya fixes her with a steely glare but answers with a controlled passion.

 

“To enact the Chase is a great honor, Klark. It is the closest to our wolf’s spirit as we can hope to achieve.” The hard clip of her voice is not lost on the Omega. Clarke subconsciously lifts her chin at the challenging tone.

 

 “You are correct – it can lead to catastrophe, or it can lead to peace. _That_ is the sacrifice, and _that_ is why it is honored.”

  

* * *

  

_[Present]_

 

 

Clarke finally closes her eyes to the dimming sunset – the swirling reds and purples are only reminding her of another day lost in confusion and ignorance. Another day that she knows virtually nothing about herself. Another day where she ruins another life.

 

Her mind fills with images of Lexa and of Heda, and of the dark wolf with haunting green eyes.

 

She had seriously considered the thought that the Alpha had trapped her in this – in the Chase and its ritual. She had even accused Lexa of keeping her prisoner, but in reality it is Lexa who is her prisoner. Lexa had been keeping her safe from others and from herself. The Alpha had no choice in this ritual either - not really. The Alpha's station made Clarke's Chase her responsibility to fulfill as her clan's leader and now Lexa is doomed to be tied to an Omega wolf that can’t even shift – chained to Clarke due to a random twist of fate. No wonder the Alpha flees from her at every turn.

 

 _But she stayed with me last night._ Lexa had actually been a welcome comfort and a 'want' for Clarke and her wolf, instead of only a balm for her Omega 'need.' She had wanted Lexa to stay and the Alpha had. 

 

Clarke shudders against her bedding. Lexa had stayed but then the Alpha disappeared without a word - like always. Does she even have a right to be miffed at Lexa's actions? It's not like they are mates - Lexa is not Clarke's. She doesn't owe Clarke anything. She reasons Lexa's visit as best that she can: her Omega must be pulling the Alpha back to her wolf. Is her Omega influencing Lexa's Alpha against Lexa's own wishes? Gods, she hopes not. What a mess that would make for them both since Clarke has no idea how to control anything to do with her wolf.

 

She brings her fist down on the pile of furs in an irritated huff. Everything she feels for Lexa is muddled and confused. Clarke desperately wishes she could separate her own feelings on 'Lexa the girl' from her Omega's on 'Lexa the Alpha.' Everything is wrong. It's not supposed to be like this. Are they going to keep avoiding each other forever - like an unhappy couple trapped in one of those primitive arranged marriages from ancient history books? Clarke whines into her pillow. Her Omega is turning sad. The white wolf's sorrowful howls bring tears to her eyes against her will.

 

Despite the cooling humidity from the day and the furs pushed up around her, Clarke feels unnaturally cold and terribly hollow.

If she is to be Heda's Omega, she supposes that she should get used to this feeling and to being alone. After all, it is not completely Lexa's fault that the Alpha is bound to her. It all comes back to who is at fault and it angers her to realize that there is no one she can blame! There is no one she can rage at for this - for all that has happened. Clarke buries her face deeper into the material of her pillow and bites the fabric hard between her teeth.  _Lexa is damned just like I am. Her own choice, her own freedom, of choosing a mate has been taken from her just as much as mine. She probably resents me..._

 

Even though she knows it isn’t fair or right, she wishes for Lexa to be here with her. She wishes for the Alpha’s comforting scent and those endless forest green eyes to stare across from her as warmth spreads through her limbs. Clarke allows herself to drift back into the memory of last night where she was still wrapped in the Alpha’s arms – safe and tucked under the other girl’s chin. Clarke memorizes everything she can from the encounter - freezing the memory and that feeling of absolute safety in time to lock away and hold hostage inside her.

 

She allows herself this escape. When the first light of dawn erupts over the land, she will turn it away.

 

Clarke needs to accept her role here and her place in Lexa's world, and she cannot do that while her head and her wolf are tangled up in Lexa. Perhaps being alone, perhaps being away from the Alpha is exactly what she needs; separation to sort out her thoughts and her wolf. She will figure out what she actually wants and then deal with Lexa. It is strange, but the thought that Lexa would approve of this plan almost makes her smile.

 

She will have to move forward.

 

She will have to harden herself to her wolf's inhibitions to be surrounded by the Alpha. As Clarke, she must move forward and move on.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap guys. So that was a pretty mouthful.
> 
> Absolutely channeled 'Sweet Emotion' by Aerosmith for the training session. Don't ask me why - it just worked.
> 
>  
> 
> Mostly Written to:
> 
> 'Head Full of Shadows' by The Glitch Mob


	11. The Summit (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke makes a friend.
> 
> The results of the Summit are in!
> 
> Lexa is a furry ball of rage.
> 
> Brunch with the Betas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Eleven **

 

 

Clarke wakes up to the early morning light of Polis with incredibly sore muscles.

 

Ridiculously sore – _monumentally_ sore.

 

She tenses her shoulders and feel the sharp twinge shooting up her arms and into the base of her neck.

 

Fuck.

 

She silently sends a few trite words to a certain Beta General.

 

The blonde is positive she has never felt this stiff and achy in her entire eighteen years. She was never one for excessive exercise in the first place, but Clarke had thought that the routine Anya had started her up on after Tondisi would have done _something_ for her. She hadn’t gained much tone, as to be expected for only a few days' training, but her legs and arms did feel stronger and her lungs seemed to take in more oxygen than before.

 

With a loud groan, Clarke moves to pull herself up only to barely rise a few inches before her ribs protest. She slumps back down in a huff.

 

Her torso feels like someone is holding her down with an iron block. She’s only felt something akin to this when the Ark’s gravity regulator went on the fritz. She had spent a terrifying fifteen minutes crushed to her cell floor, unable to lift even her little finger before the bug in the system had been addressed and fixed. _Come on body, work with me here._

 

“Moving on, Clarke. We are mooooving on, and to do that you _have_ —”

 

Clarke rocks back and forth, struggling to gain momentum.

 

“—to get…”

 

The Omega heaves herself into a sitting position with a garbled grunt.

 

“Up!”

 

Clarke sighs and looks out the balcony as a hand runs through her tangles locks, getting caught in the matted strands and the dried blood she had earned in her time playing in the dirt. She needs a shower – or a bath. She scoots to the bed’s edge, still gripped in a groggy morning phase.

 

Her feet feel unusually heavy and it’s then that she realizes she has slept in her day clothes, including her dirtied boots.

 

As if sensing her awakened state, a knock echoes off her door.

 

“Min op!” Her voice trails off into a yawn.

 

The door pushes open and a young Beta girl, maybe thirteen or fourteen years, shuffles inside the room. Her hair is long and a lighter shade of brown than Lexa’s with a few strands wrapped in colored strips of fabric, but her eyes have that same unflinching Trikru stare. However, her confidence is a bit skittish and the gangly Beta quickly looks to the floor.

 

“Os deimeika, prisa Klark.” The Beta’s voice is still that of a young girl, soft and a bit unsure.

 

Clarke wants to grimace as she hears the nickname. It has obviously spread around the tower.

 

_Perfect._

 

She recognizes the Beta’s words. ‘Os’ meaning good and ‘deimeika’ meaning sun. Good sun… Good morning? A small triumphant smile spreads on her face as she turns to face the Beta girl with a raspy greeting.

 

“Os deimeika…?”

 

The girl looks up a bit confused before she understands Clarke’s question.

 

“Tris. Ai laik Tris (I am Tris).”

 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Tris. What can I do for you this morning?”

 

Tris seems taken by surprise from Clarke’s wish to offer a Beta servant her services. The Beta shakes her head a bit before straightening up, stiff as a board.

 

“Prisa,” The girl starts, “I am now at your service. It is my honor to provide you with anything you may need while you stay in the Commander’s tower. I hope to be a useful asset for you and pledge to you my time at any hour you may request need of me.” The girl’s eyes are trained onto the ceiling as if she is trying to recite her words from memory without stumbling over them in the process.

 

Clarke smiles at the girl's effort. It's kind of endearing. She vows to loosen this nervous Beta up. If she can make a grump like Anya smile – well sarcastically grimace with teeth – then maybe she can offer Tris some quiet freedoms too.

 

“The honor is mine, Tris. I am grateful to have your help.”

 

The Beta’s wide hazel eyes lock onto Clarke and the Omega offers her a smile. A tentative one is returned before Tris speaks again.

 

“Would you like breakfast now, prisa?”

 

Clarke is not very hungry this morning. Her thoughts are still caught up in the tangled web of everything Anya had said to her, not to mention her reoccurring thoughts of Lexa complicating all things emotional inside her.

She shakes her head in the negative.

 

“No thank you, Tris, but I would love a bath if possible. Anya beat me into the ground yesterday and I am afraid I smell like it.”

 

Clarke chuckles at the flabbergasted look on the Beta’s face at hearing that the Trikru General had laid a finger on an Omega and that they both were still in one piece. The dismay wears off almost instantly to be replaced by wonder and then excitement.

 

“You fought against _the_ Trikru General? Are you her second now? How did she fight? They say the General moves like the very winds that blow across the Trikru hills.”

 

The Beta lightly gasps and claps her hands over her mouth as she fails to hold in her enthusiastic questions.

 

“Forgive me, prisa, it is not my place to ask such things.”

 

Clarke waves away Tris’ apology. The girl speaks and understands Gonasleng, so she must have some military training. Her interest in a high ranking official like a Beta General is logical.

 

“No need to apologize Tris. If you are stuck on my services, you will simply have to learn my rules.”

 

At the mention of rules, Tris immediately tenses and locks to her arms to her sides as if she is a soldier awaiting her leader’s command.

 

“Firstly, call me Clarke. None of this prisa stuff. Secondly, ask me anything you like; I really don’t mind and I enjoy the conversation. Thirdly, don’t be afraid to tell me to shof op if I complain too much, or make a mistake. And feel free to correct my Trigedasleng – I am still learning and your input would help me greatly. Understand?”

 

Tris nods earnestly and Clarke can tell the girl is still a bit in shock, but eager to please and follow her orders.

 

“Sha, pr— _Klark_. I understand.”

 

“Os.” Clarke replies and Tris finally cracks a real grin. “So Tris, tell me about your favorite parts of the city.”

 

Clarke turns her gaze back to the balcony and feels a little of the weight on her chest ease as Tris delves into her story while going about preparing Clarke’s bath.

  

* * *

A few floors above, Lexa breathes in the same crisp morning air of Polis as it filters in through the throne room.

 

The dawn has just arrived, but the Alpha has been awake for quite some time – sleep was not an option in the wake of yesterday’s Summit. Even in her dreams she finds no peace.

The rising breeze brings little comfort to her as the chill nips at her cheeks and Heda feels it crawl over her body. She stands rigidly before her city, hands clasped tightly behind her as the red of her sash ebbs and flows with the gusts of wind around her.

 

There is a weariness settling heavily in her bones as the blistering reality of the Summit’s decision encumbers her shoulders.

 

The Alpha retraces the entire Summit from start to finish in her mind. Lexa wonders if she has made the right choice by allowing their ruling to stand.

 

Even Heda is unsure.

  

* * *

 

_[Yesterday morning. The reconvened Summit]_

 

The twelve clans had argued over Lexa’s right to her claim until their voices became hoarse. The claim's validity or lack there of could not be unanimously decided.

Since the Chase could not be fully rescinded or the requirements duplicated, the clans had grudgingly come to an agreement of sorts – more like an alternate option to the Chase, which seemed a hypocrisy on its own, but Lexa hadn’t officially sealed her claim with her bite, or mated the Omega after all so the delegates lunged greedily at the opportunity for compromise. 

Lexa had to grip the pommel of her sword in a severe hold to keep her Alpha from snapping its jaws and snarling out her wolf’s displeasure.

 

The terms were thus:

 

The kongeda would have one rotation of the moon to challenge Heda’s claim, excluding Trikru who Heda had initially made the claim for. The option to challenge Heda would begin in a fortnight, when the moon would be full once again. Each clan could choose a representative to approach their commanding Alpha in single combat at any time for the right to the Omega. 

If Heda’s rival won, the Omega would be released to the winning clan despite the original claim.

 

This seemed to pacify the coalition members, even the Azgeda delegates which made Lexa’s skin crawl. Lexa did not miss the glint in the Azgeda ambassador’s eyes as the terms were finalized, nor Nia's toothy smirk. 

The Trikru Alpha could already feel her wolf sizing up her competition. Most of her opponents would be among those standing within the throne room.

 

After the Summit had ended, Lexa had stormed out of the great hall in a whirlwind of pheromones and barely contained anger – tossing the ample wooden doors to her chambers open as if they were mere obstructions of fabric instead of imported oak.

 

Her wolf had paced behind her eyes as Heda did the same within her rooms.

 

How could this happen?!

 

Clarke was hers - IS hers.

 

 _Mine,_ her wolf and heart roared.

 

The Alpha could feel the heat of her blood boil as full bodied snarls ripped free of her chest in thunderous bellows. It did not help that her advisor had raced after her, following her heels as obediently as a duckling to its parent. Clearly her anguish over this decision had not dissuaded the Fleimkepa from pursuing the riled Alpha. She wished him gone.

 

Titus had stood silent, watching her prowl the length of her rooms as her mind and lungs heaved. 

 

Lexa knew his stance on the coalition’s terms and it was only a matter of time before he voiced them. He would want her to disregard the clans’ wishes.

 

To mate Clarke, seal the claim and be done with it no matter the consequences to the kongeda.

 

_If only it were that simple._

 

Even if Clarke was willing to complete Lexa’s claim, how could Lexa as Heda possibly hold herself above the Moon’s law? Heda was gifted by that very spirit – could she really reject her people’s deity or defy it by raising herself above tradition?

 

She could never abuse her power as Alpha like that.

 

_Even if it achieves peace?_

 

Lexa groaned out a pitiful sound before shaking her head as her mind diverted and swooped through lessons and beliefs from foreign memories long dead.

 

To be Heda was to serve.

 

Lexa could not do what Titus would advise – no matter his good intentions. This was not the way to gain peace. A forcible action such as that would only breed ill will and bitterness; with enough time both of these could swell into hatred and a need for rebellion and then they truly would have war no matter the promises of peace from the Chase. After all, the only past Commanding Alpha to unite with an Omega after a Chase held onto peace for a just few short weeks. 

 

 _That Heda did not have your coalition,_ her head prompts, _he tried bringing unity to a disjointed land and failed - you learned from his mistakes_.

 

She would destroy her only option for true lasting peace by demanding it.

 

Her internal debate was interrupted predictably by her advisor.

 

“Calm your temper – Anger is not the path for decisions, Heda.”

 

Lexa rounded on the Beta, an unquenchable fire infecting her being and blazing through the steely eyes of her wolf.

 

“I _know_ this – I do not need these senseless lessons from you ticha (teacher)!”

 

“Then do not act as the foolish pup! _Control_ your pakstoka, Leksa, not the other way around!”

 

Titus’ voice carried over the sound of the bustling city miles below. Beta pheromones leached into the air and barely calmed Lexa’s agitated wolf. He did not understand.

 

The embers of the Alpha’s spirit had been lit and with the looming threat of multiple challenges coming her way, the wolf was ablaze and ready.

 

She yearned to run to Clarke. Her heart beat ferociously for the blonde.

 

The Alpha needed to see her Omega, to press the blonde close and breath in her fresh scent. Lexa closed her eyes and imagined shimmering blonde hair and bright sapphire eyes. The tightness in her chest somewhat lessened as she thought of Clarke, and a full rush of calming Beta pheromones invaded her senses.The Alpha huffed and made her way over to a small dinner table, sitting down into one of the chairs. She could almost hear Titus’ relieved sigh from her position and knew her advisor would join her. 

Lexa sighed and looked out at the setting sun, waiting for Titus to begin speaking his counsel.

 

* * *

 

_[Present]_

 

 

Lexa allows herself another few moments of peace as Polis begins to wake. She watches as merchants from all of her clans scurry out of their homes and briskly untie the covers from their shops, opening their trade for another Polis day.

 

The Alpha looks down at the citizens milling about with the fondness of a parent watching over their children.

 

This is what Lexa cherishes.

 

This is what Heda protects.

 

This is why she must adhere to her coalition and to the terms they decide as a whole. She is their leader, but she is in the service to her people. They are all her pack, and the pack’s needs come before her own.

 

Titus may be correct.

 

Perhaps mating an Omega would bring the coalition peace as it had in the past, but at what cost? 

 

Lexa has grown up on these tales and has been taught the beliefs of the Moon’s spirit by her nomon and by Titus and the past Commanders before her. She even speaks with the Moon spirit in times of great need.

 

She inherently knows that the spirit is real and consequently so must her laws.

 

But what if Titus is wrong?

 

What if the _writings_  governing the Chase are wrong? They are only writings and interpretations after all. Writers were fallible - they could make mistakes. They were not the Moon keryon.

 

What is if the ritual of the Chase, the power of an Omega and Alpha and the brief peace of the past Commander is only that – writings and stories?

 

What if all of this is doing nothing but putting unnecessary targets on all the Omegas in her coalition – on _Clarke?_

 

“Jok (fuck).”

 

Lexa growls at her own self doubt.

 

She can’t believe this is happening. She is questioning her pack’s traditions – their shared history now? Now?! After almost twenty seasons in the Moon's service. Was this part of being the Commander as well? 

To detach oneself from even their faith and most stable lifelines to mitigate a decision that will effect all within the coalition – that will essentially determine the future balance of the collective pack for generations to come?

 

_This is too much._

 

The Alpha is overwhelmed, confused, and mentally exhausted.

 

She hasn’t felt this lost since her ascension as Heda.

 

The brunette takes one last deep breath as the dawn bursts into full morning light.

 

She decides to speak with her fos about all of this. Anya has always had a grounding effect on her, and a knack for keeping her mind from spinning out of control in the face of sensitive negotiations. She can already hear Anya’s voice in her head.

 

_Breath, seken. This too shall pass._

 

Yes, she will speak with Anya.

 

Then she _must_ speak with Clarke. The Omega needs to know the Summit's decision.

 

Lexa barks out for a guard, and in seconds one is kneeling off to her side.

 

“Lid ai in, Onya (Bring me, Anya).”

 

* * *

  

Anya absently taps her foot against the plaster floor of the kitchens as she dabs at the remnants of her late breakfast on her plate. She sucks in a breath as the tart sting of the fruit hits her healing lip. _Forgot about that._  

The Beta chuckles to herself as she remembers the way Clarke had looked at her as the first strike of her staff flew at the blonde. 

Clarke’s stance and her fighting skills were pathetic – childish even, but the Omega did not relent. Clarke had struggled to her feet every time the Beta slammed her down, and in the end the Omega had fought back with her wolf. Anya had seen its eyes and had felt it stalk forward ready to lash out at her. Her next lesson would not involve such a tough push for the Omega wolf to appear. Once was all the General needed to see to take measure of the girl's spirit. The Beta now had a calculated plan to bring Clarke's shift to the surface - within a few short weeks if all went well.

 

Anya had almost been proud of the skaiprisa. _Almost._

The Beta looks up as two figures slide into the unoccupied stools beside her at the long table.

 

“Hei, Onya.” Lincoln’s groggy voice floats over the air as Ryder nods his greeting.

 

Anya grunts in answer as she pushes her plate away from her.

 

“So we heard you gave the prisa a rough welcoming with the last dawn.”

 

Anya looks over to the grinning Betas and offers a bored scowl and a flick of her wrist.

 

“Em na tich op (She will learn). She is stubborn but she has the fire of any Alpha wolf.”

 

“We can _see_ that, Onya.” Ryder chuckles as he gestures to the General’s busted lip.

 

Anya punches the larger Beta’s arm as he continues to laugh quietly.

 

“Sha, well at least _I_ am not playing hide and seek with my charge.” Anya speaks with a sly grin and a knowing voice.

 

Ryder and Lincoln both groan and slouch into their seats. “Beja, do not remind us. That mouthy Omega will be the early death of me.” Lincoln swipes a hand over his growing stubble along his jaw.

 

“Luna is _not_ that bad, Linkon. I was her guard for a short stint before I became General. You must be a terrible conversationalist if she’s escaping your company.”

 

Lincoln bristles and tosses a chunk of bread at the General who smirks in her chair.

 

“Sha, sha; she is not so terrible. She’s actually rather pleasant when she is not causing trouble.”

 

“Have you found all of her escape tunnels yet?”

 

Lincoln shakes his head. “You mean like the one that led into Klark’s room that we now have sealed off?”

 

Anya smugly nods in affirmation.

 

“ _Jok_ no, Onya.” Ryder barks out. “We will never know all of that Omega’s secrets and those damned tunnels are a closely guarded one.”

 

Lincoln chuckles and begins tearing into the bread and meats on his plate.

 

The Beta General hums to herself as she hears the tell-tale patter of the serving wolves enter the kitchen. The trio of guards return to their food as a group of young wolves move about the kitchen, grabbing pots and assorted supplies. The group is mainly Beta girls with one or two Alphas tossed into the mix. They are young but not young enough to be complete goufas. 

Anya’s ears prick up as she latches onto a bit of wording coming from the group.

 

“Sha, Klark is the newest Omega in the tower.” A gangly Beta with sharp eyes answers from the cluster of girls.

 

“And you’re her attendant for your first assignment inside the tower? You’re so lucky!”

 

A short redhead looks on with longing and sulks as she scrapes the remains of someone’s dinner from the night before. “Ai ste seifas kom koken won ( _I'm_ stuckwith the crazy one).”

 

Another brunette girl leaps into the interrogation with ease.

 

“Is it true what they are saying about the prisa? That Heda has claimed her and now they are going to be mated soon?”

 

“ _Beja_ , have you _seen_ the clan’s delegates prowling around? Something is going on up there and it’s not wedding bells I’m hearing.”

 

The redhead ignores the sarcastic quip from the dark haired girl beside her and pokes her nose into the other brunette’s space.

 

“Have you seen her pelt? I bet it is beautiful. I heard her hair is almost as light as the moon itself!”

 

The chestnut Beta, Clarke’s new ward, stands tight lipped with silverware in her hands.

 

“Klark is kind and strong. If she is to be Heda’s mate, she will be a great one.”

 

“Oh _come on_ , Tris! Give us something more than that! Deyon, Tris (Today, Tris)!”

 

 

Anya narrows her eyes at the group from across the room. The girl, Tris, merely shakes her head and heads to the food stores to collect a few fruits and freshly baked bread.

 _Good._ Clarke has someone who is not a complete gossip and knows the value of loyalty. Perhaps this one has the potential to be more than just a simple hand in the tower.

 

Anya taps her fingers against the rim of her cup, when she senses an Alpha guard approach her and bow his head. He’s one of throne room guards.

 

“Chich op (Speak).”

 

Lincoln and Ryder quiet their movements and look up in silent observation. The guard nods his head and looks to the General.

 

“Heda as yu op (Heda asks for you).”

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I keep writing scenes that are chapters ahead of the one that I should be writing...it's frustrating, but fun?
> 
> I guess even my writer's brain is eager to get to the endgame lol
> 
> Expect some Clexa heading your way next chapter!  
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'In My Blood' by The Veronicas (Which was played on repeat at Pride.)


	12. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Anya talk.
> 
> Clarke and Lexa have a moment in the Library.
> 
> Some feelings happen.
> 
> It's getting real ladies and gents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Twelve **

 

 

As Lexa sits on her throne in the great hall, she futilely deliberates over everything she has ever been taught.

  

The Moon spirit is their mother. _It watches over us._

 

The Moon spirit is their guide. _It determines our wolf._

 

The spirit provides. _Like Heda, it serves the pack._

 

It provides dreams to offer them strength. _It never abandons any wolf._

 

It provides them with laws and reason. _The spirit is fair as it is ruthless._

 

It gave them Heda’s power. _That is why my blood is special._

 

It gave them Omegas. _That is why Clarke is special – one reason out of a million reasons that Clarke is special._

 

It honors the Chase in the hope of peace. _That is why the ritual is sacred._

 

 

These are _facts_. These are _known_.

Is she doing the right thing to alter the rules of the Chase to please the coalition? Will the Moon spirit be displeased? If they can modify these rules that have been set in stone for hundreds of years, what others can they adjust and how will this announcement be taken by her people?

 

What has she done?

 

Lexa wishes for the spirit to reach out to her – to guide her like it used to when Lexa had first become Heda. 

The Moon spirit was patient and wise. It knew how to direct Lexa without pushing its influence onto the young wolf. It let Lexa make her own choices and her own mistakes. The spirit never judged, but offered insight for Lexa to rectify her wrongs and learn from them.

Lexa had not heard from the spirit in a long time. She missed its presence greatly.

 

She wonders what all of this means as she waits for Anya.

  

* * *

 

  

“What if we got it wrong, Onya?”

 

Anya’s brow crinkles in confusion as she pulls up a chair beside Heda’s throne. “What do you mean? That is a rather broad question, Leksa.”

 

“What if the Chase – the whole promise of peace – what if it does not truly exist; what if it is nothing but the ghost of a wolf’s fairytale?”

 

The Beta falls back into her seat, bewildered by the brooding Alpha sitting uncomfortably beside her.

 

Anya observes this development in the Alpha with a serious scrutiny. Something has happened with the Summit – something is deeply troubling her former second. She takes a deep, preparing breath and calmly leans back into her chair, lacing her fingers together and propping her elbows up onto the arms of her seat.

 

“Alright, so what if it is false?”

 

Lexa looks back to the Beta, wide eyed and incredulous – clearly not expecting _that_ response. Her fos has always been an avid believer in the old ways and the Moon spirit. Anya’s conviction in her own wolf and the spirit had never faltered in all the years Lexa had known the Beta wolf.

 

The Beta continues. “What if the writings are wrong? What then?”

 

Lexa is still gaping at the General and struggles to follow up with an answer.

 

“I—do not…”

 

Anya sees her former seken floundering for the first time in a long time. This bothers her greatly.

 

“If it is only a _story…_ ,” the disdain for calling one of their people’s most sacred traditions a mere tale is evident, “…if the promise of peace is nothing but that, then we will do what we have always done.”

 

The way Lexa is looking at her reminds Anya of when the gangly Alpha was first assigned to her – all eager eyes begging to learn, and soaking up everything Anya gave her. It’s hard to see Lexa so in doubt with herself and the spirit. 

 

“Oso _kik thru_ , Heda. Oso gyon op en oso kiken (We _survive_ , Commander. We move on and we live).”

 

Lexa’s eyes drift off to the archway over the hall’s doors, and Anya can see them shifting as she decides what to make of all this. Is there a reason to worry about something that may never come to pass? Perhaps. Perhaps not. 

The Beta decides to ease some of the tension. She poses another question.

 

“And what if the writings _are_ correct? What if the Chase _is_ the answer to a lasting peace for our packs?”

 

Lexa leans back into the throne, still a bit stiff but attempting to relax her muscles into this conversation.

 

“Think over the last few days, Leksa. You _know_ the truth – you can at least feel part of it. You would not have me teaching the Omega if you did not. The product of your claim has already been set into motion. You saw how the gona pack reacted to her wolf on the road from Tondisi. You were there Leksa – there is _something_ bigger than instinct and pheromones at work here. There is _no_ chance of going back now - despite the Summit ruling.”

 

Anya’s wolf dares Lexa to deny this. She glares at her seken as if to say ‘Keep your mouth shut, pakstoka.’ The Beta’s fingers grip the hilt of a dagger from her hip to occupy her hands as she delves tactlessly into this next topic as it will surely set her seken off whether she is gentle or not.

 

“Yu laik fir raun, Leksa (You are afraid, Lexa).”

 

The Alpha whips her head and half her torso around and stares aghast at her fos. “ _Chit?!_ Ai _nou_ fir raun ( _What?!_ I am _not_ afraid)!”

 

The Beta pushes onward – unfazed.

 

“I believe you _are_ afraid. Afraid that the Chase _is_ real and that it is _not_ – afraid how you feel for _Klark is_  real either way. I know you have had to harden your heart, Leksa. I have seen what being Heda has changed in you as we knew it must. 

If that is the case and you become a mated pair, Klark  _will_ have a massive target on her back, as all leaders do. Peace or not, being a ruler is always a risk. And you will have to acknowledge that the draw to her Omega might be more than that of just your Alpha’s instincts. 

I believe you are afraid of this happening; you fear for her safety and you fear for yourself becoming vulnerable in a very tactile way.”

 

The Alpha wants to snarl at the Beta – dispute her words and toss her off the tower balcony for her audacity. Instead she lets out a dark and husky chuckle that feels painful as it leaves her.

 

“Why must you dredge up these things, Onya?”

 

The Beta answers flatly. “Because I like to watch you squirm, seken.”

 

Lexa peevishly huffs in her chair and looks up to the vaulted ceiling, allowing her eyes to drift over the faded murals cracking on the plaster. Her jaw has been clenching and unclenching for hours and it’s starting to ache. Anya shuffles in her chair, slipping the dagger she had been fooling with into its sheath.

 

“In all seriousness, I know if I do not bring these _things_ to light that you will undoubtedly deny they exist until I am forced to clean up the explosive aftermath. And,” Anya’s face wrinkles as if she’s sucked on a lemon, “I _do_ care about you, Leksa.”

 

Lexa’s head lolled onto her shoulder as she looked at the Beta. “Did that hurt as much as it sounded?”

 

“Shof op, Heda.” Anya’s boot nudges into Lexa’s thigh and Lexa spares her fos a small smile.

 

“I barely know her, Onya.”

 

The Beta hums to herself. “A fact you haven’t tried to remedy as of late.”

 

Lexa looks miffed again and her lips move to retort Anya’s words, but the Beta works faster.

 

“You know it to be true so do not placate me with your excuses. Leksa may not know Klark, but I suspect your Alpha _does_ – Just as I have said before.”

 

That statement freezes Lexa to her seat as she contemplates Anya’s suspicion. The Beta’s undertone of knowing Lexa’s feelings for Clarke are blatantly clear and have been almost immediately after the Chase. The Alpha swallows down the lump in her throat as she reveals a long buried piece of herself.

 

“I thought I knew before as well, Onya. Yu get klin dison (You know this).”

 

The Beta’s eyes lock onto the Alpha – she barely hears the last part as Lexa’s voice has dropped to a whisper.

 

“Ai get kiln don vout in ai _don_. (I truly thought I _did)_.”

 

The General looks at the glossy eyes of her Heda, and realizes what she is remembering. Her heart aches for her former student, and now her Heda. She softens her voice.

 

“Ai get in, seken. Ai get in (I know, second. I know)."

 

Lexa sighs a soul shuddering deflation, and Anya watches as her Heda seems so much like a normal young woman. She notices how small Lexa seems on her imperial throne and the Beta barely resists the urge to actually hug the hurting Alpha. Instead, she stands and places a firm hand on her Heda’s shoulder and squeezes lightly to let the other wolf know that she is there. 

Lexa allows the comfort momentarily, but ends it as she straightens in her seat – the rigid composure of Heda sliding into place.

 

“Ai souda chich op kom Klark (I must speak with Clarke).”

 

Anya steps back and looks over her former second feeling a twinge of empathy. “Sha, Heda. I had Linkon escort her to the Library after breakfast. She should be there by now if you wish to seek her out.”

 

Lexa subtly inclines her chin – grateful for her fos – and rises gracefully from the enshrined throne.

 

Anya watches the Alpha stride away and she sends a prayer to the Moon spirit that her seken will find peace – with or without the Omega.

  

* * *

 

Lexa enters the vast grandeur of the Polis Library. The brilliant scene of towering shelves threaded with endless novels never ceased to amaze her. The architects did well when they designed this temple to the scholars. The imaginative rhythms of the stone and well placed bookcases emphasize the spatial breadth of this place.

 

It had been some time since her last visit.

 

The Alpha slowly walks across the marbled floor, even her light footsteps echoing off the surrounding walls and literature. 

She tips her chin up and quickly scents the air, easily sifting through the musk of other wolves and the binding wax of aged texts to identify the one scent she sought out – _Clarke_. The Alpha feels a blanket of contentment seep through her body as she follows the trail of the Omega. She weaves through numerous bookcases, some even reaching the third level of the library. She touches the same spines that hold brief remnants of Clarke – memorizing the titles for later knowledge. 

Finally, Lexa emerges between a darkened hall of botany scripts and herbalism; she is engulfed in bright white light casting down from a large Palladian stained-glass window. For a moment, she is blinded by the stream of sunlight.

 

Her breath hitches in her lungs as her eyes adjust and they widen at the sight before her.

 

The stone walls pucker out into a half circle. A dome ceiling lies above, and the very middle has been replaced by a sheer glass oculus. The narrowed opening allows a bright beam of unfiltered light to shine directly onto the purpose of the Alpha’s search.

Clarke is settled comfortably in a large armchair, her knees tucked beneath her as she flips through a large maroon book seated in her lap. Her wavy blonde hair has been styled in a single braid that is cast over one shoulder, but loose strands escape and frame her face. Clarke’s brows are knit in rapt concentration as they skim over the slightly yellowed paper beneath her fingertips.

 

Lexa can do nothing but stare – enraptured – and soaks in the vision before her.

 

She doesn’t know how long she stands there rooted to the floor, but she feels a spark of adrenaline shoot down into her arms and legs when Clarke turns her head and locks those vibrant cobalt eyes on the Commander.

 

Anya was right.

 

 _This is real,_ her heart hums.

 

 

Clarke blinks a few times, her faced etched in mild shock as if she can’t believe the Alpha is really there.

 

Lexa is only twenty feet away, but the distance between them feels immeasurable.

 

The moment is broken when she moves to get up, but Lexa quickly holds up her hand indicating for her to stay.

 

She does.

 

The Omega can feel her body pumping out pheromones and can’t make herself willingly stop. Clarke swallows discretely as the Alpha cautiously approaches. The air seems to get thicker, heavier, as the brunette stops only a foot in front of the chair.

 

“Hello, Klark.”

 

Lexa’s voice is soft and smooth. The Alpha still carries that maddening accent on the ‘k’ of Clarke’s name. It makes the Omega’s stomach flip.

 

“Hei, Lexa.”

 

The Omega adjusts herself in the chair, pulling her legs out from under her and carefully transferring the old book from her lap to the floor. 

The two wolves just stare at one another, neither quite knowing how to address what is happening between them. Finally, Clarke breaks her gaze away, dipping her head to push a stray piece of blonde hair behind her reddening ear. Lexa’s eyes observe every motion with a secret pleasure.

 

“Lexa, I just…” The Omega looks up suddenly with watery eyes into the widening green gazing down at her, “I’m _so_ sorry.”

 

Upon seeing and scenting the Omega’s distress, the Alpha immediately drops to her knees – clasping Clarke’s hands between her own without a second thought. Lexa locks onto those sad azure eyes and marvels as they seem to become even more vibrant and endless. The alpha squeezes Clarke’s hands gently, hoping to soothe what ails the blonde’s mind.

 

“You have nothing to apologize for Klark.”

 

The Omega fervently shakes her head, her breathing starting to stutter inside her chest as the emotions rush out of her like sand through a sieve.

 

“But it is  _my_ fault, Lexa. All of this Chase mess – it’s all my—”

 

“— _No_ , Klark.” Lexa’s voice is firm and resolute.

 

Clarke grabs onto Lexa’s hands in her lap and targets the Alpha with her own resolve. She owes Lexa this – she will tell the Alpha she knows of their precarious situation now, and that she does not blame Lexa for any of it; Lexa who has been so generous since her arrival, and patient while Clarke is still lost, and who has always kept her word to the Omega.

 

“You wouldn’t be dealing with all of this if it weren’t for _me._  You wouldn’t be stuck with an Omega that can’t even shift into her wolf. If I hadn’t run, if I’d only— _Gods_ , I’m _so_ sorry, Lexa.”

 

Clarke releases Lexa’s hands and shields her face from the Alpha as her shoulders begin to shake. _What is happening – why am I reacting so strongly to this? Gods, I’m crying now. Shit._

Before Clarke can mentally berate herself further, she feels the solid warmth of two strong arms wrapping around her. A calloused hand softly holds the back of her neck, and the other rests respectfully on the middle of her back. Clarke wordlessly tucks her face into the crook of the Alpha’s neck, taking deep gulping breaths of the other girl’s scent. Lexa’s presence is calming and she can’t help but crave more no matter how messed up that urge is. Clarke wants to pull away. She wants to pull Lexa closer – she wants so much in this moment that it is overwhelming.

 

“Ai laik  _moba_ (I’m _sorry)_.” Clarke mumbles into the Alpha’s skin. “I’m sorry I acted like you were my jailor—I’m so freaking _sorry_ , Lexa.”

 

Lexa turns her head to press her lips against the Omega’s crown. “Everything will be alright, Klark. I will not let _anything_ happen to you, I swear it.”

 

Clarke’s hands tighten in the fabric of Lexa’s stiff jacket. She presses her forehead into the Alpha’s shoulder, and takes an uncoordinated breath to try and gather herself.

 

“No, Lexa. _You_ don’t have to swear anything to me. Please don't.”

 

The Omega pulls back from the source of the Alpha’s comforting scent, but remains in the loose hold of Lexa’s arms.

 

“Anya told me about the Chase. I know the rules, and I know I need to acknowledge my side in this. I started the ritual. I should finish it as well. I don’t hold you to any vows or claims that could cause trouble for you or your people.”

 

Lexa gazes back at the magnetic depth of refracting blue, a soft awe adorning her features. _You self sacrificing, exquisite creature - Klark_ , her heart croons.

 

“Klark,” the Alpha moves the hand from the Omega’s neck to cup the softness of Clarke’s cheek, “You were not the only one to make a decision that night.”

 

Clarke looks back to the Alpha with a baffled expression that brings a soft smile to Lexa’s face. The brunette sweeps her thumb over the Omega’s skin just as she did when she had visited Clarke in her quarters.

 

“You ran Klark, but _I_ was the one to answer you. The responsibility is not yours alone to shoulder.”

 

It sounds beautiful and hopeful, and awfully too good to be true. Clarke is still firmly stuck in her denial. “You didn’t have a choice, Lexa. I forced your hand when I shifted. You don’t have to say these things to make me feel better about what I’ve done.”

 

Lexa’s face seems to crumble at Clarke’s words, and she breathes harshly through her nose. The Alpha brings her other hand to cradle Clarke’s face between her palms, making sure the Omega is looking straight at her. Clarke feels like purring in Lexa’s hold.

 

“No one forced me to lope after you. I could have allowed another pack to reach you, but I did not.”

 

Clarke gazes at the brunette cradling her. _Tell me you want me, Lexa._

 

Lexa’s eyes are shifting all over Clarke’s face – the Alpha’s full lips are parted and she’s panting softly. Clarke can’t break her eyes away from the vulnerability of it all – she’s hanging onto Lexa’s every word.Lexa opens her mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a cracked whine that she forces down.

 

 _Tell her you wanted her then. Tell her you want her still. Do it – tell her,_ her heart nearly screams.

 

Lexa clamps her eyes shut as fear creeps in - as Heda creeps in. 

 

No. She cannot do this – she cannot tell Clarke. She cannot tell her how she feels for the Omega. It would only complicate things further when so much is currently in chaos. The clans have a chance to win Clarke from her, and what if they do? What if Clarke wishes to go to another clan – find another mate, someone who isn’t burdened with the complexities that cover Lexa? Would Lexa let her? Lexa wants to howl at her own selfish wants.

 

 _I chose you then, Klark. And I would choose you again. Say it,_ her heart pounds violently at her ribcage.

 

Lexa opens her fervent greens that pierce into Clarke and she feels loss.

 

Anya may be right.

 

Her heart may be right.

 

This may be real.

 

But she can’t acknowledge this connection with Clarke, not when they might be torn apart in mere days. It can destroy Lexa - she can take it - but she cannot condemn Clarke to suffer that fate with her. She can save the Omega this pain. She can bare it alone.

  

“I chose you then, Klark.” The Omega looks almost hopeful. “And I would choose you again—for Trikru." The blonde's face crumbles a little and her eyes dull. Lexa pushes on - forcing the words out.

 

"The clan will continue to protect you no matter what lies ahead.”

 

Clarke feels her heart drop through her stomach and far below the earth's surface. Her eyelids flutter down as she averts her eyes away from the Alpha’s passive face. She feels so _stupid_. Lexa has always told her from the start that the claim was for _Trikru_. Lexa was simply the representative - the Trikru champion. Once again, Clarke has read into a situation without all of the information – in addition to allowing her emotions from her Omega project onto this Alpha. 

Of course Lexa has been treating her well. Of course she has been overly affectionate - she's an Alpha not a saint. Clarke is an Omega and Lexa is an Alpha – the Commander can’t help it. It’s fucking biology.

Clarke can feel the tightening of her chest. She has to get away from here or she’ll start crying again. She swallows and nods her head jerkily, placing a palm on one of Lexa’s to draw the Alpha’s hand away from her face.

 

“Of course…I understand. Thank you, Heda.” Her voice is strained, and almost empty.

 

Lexa hesitantly drops her arms and stands from her crouched position as the Omega stands shakily from the chair. Clarke looks back to Heda’s face because how can she not. She immediately regrets it. _Gods, I must be a masochist._  That is who stares back - the cool face of Heda – no trace of Lexa anymore. _Why did I look back?_

 

The blonde swallows and weakly manages to complete a sentence to get her out of this place. “Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

 

After a subtle nod from the Commander, Clarke collects the books from her nook and hastily retreats from the silent Alpha. The walls around Lexa’s heart feel as thin as the pages from Clarke’s books - delicate and flimsy, and turning and turning through empty air.

 

* * *

  

Clarke races from the sanctuary of the Library, feeling like the once comforting space is now caving in around her. She can feel her wolf shaking and restless beneath her skin – clearly just as upset with their most recent meeting with the Alpha they both have grown attached to. She can’t blame herself for actually forming an attachment to the Alpha. Lexa _did_ claim her after all. The Alpha had said Clarke was _hers_. Lexa had done everything in her power to keep Clarke safe and well looked after. She had stayed with the blonde through her heat - protected and soothed her - everything an Alpha was supposed to be towards an Omega, Lexa was.

Although, to be fair Lexa _had_ distanced herself from Clarke multiple times since the Chase.

How had Clarke not see this? Who was she kidding – she _had_ seen it. She had seen it and had denied it? Clarke shivers and tries to warm herself by rubbing her hands up and down her arms a few times.

 

She feels exposed here.

 

Her wolf feels vulnerable in a way that it hasn’t since her heat.

 

It scares them both.

 

Just as Clarke rounds the corner of the Library exit, she slams head-on into another body. She would have been sent to the floor if not for two hands reaching out to steady her. Clarke looks up at her savior to apologize and thank them at the same time, only to jerk back.

 

“Well that is _one_ way to say hello, prisa.” Ontari’s voice has its constant playful tone. The Alpha is straightening out her rumpled clothing as she watches the range of emotions filter across the Omega’s face. The Alpha’s eyes zero in on the distress emanating from the blonde – her scent is a bit sour and lacks the honey tint the Alpha is used to.

 

Clarke backs away another step as she tries to gain some control over herself and this unplanned visit.

 

“Klark, are you alright?” The Azgeda wolf’s scent prods at her senses. Ontari’s voice has lost its teasing register and appears sincere in her inquiry. Strong and Alpha register in Clarke’s mind. Her Omega draws comfort from this presence even though this Alpha is not the one her wolf is crying out for.

 

“Ai laik ku (I am fine).”

 

Ontari gives her an unbelieving frown and places her hands on her hips as if to challenge Clarke’s statement. Clarke huffs impatiently and blinks away any remaining tears caught in her lashes.

 

“I _am_. I just need to leave – I need to get out of here for awhile. I apologize for running into you like that; I was not paying attention, but if you would excuse me I need some air.”

 

The Omega makes to move around the Azgeda wolf, but is stopped by a light hand on her forearm. Clarke halts and glares at the offending hand, and then at its owner. Ontari removes her palm and holds up both of her hands in an attempt to show her surrender.

 

“Klark, I mean you no harm. I merely wish to offer you your space and air if you wish.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

The Azgeda ambassador offers a half grin and places a hand on her cocked hip.

 

“Follow me and find out.”

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo that's where we're at. Don't be upset, there's a reason for all of this. 
> 
> Being a leader of an entire nation is obviously stressful as jok for Lexa. She's questioning everything about herself as well as her very belief system that her entire ancestry was built on. Mixing her duty with her personal wants is always going to cause problems and create emotional whiplash for those close to her. It's inevitable. Plus the girl is still human - she's going to mess up.
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> '2 Heads' by Coleman Hell


	13. Help Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> I am NOT writing meaningless angst to torture you guys. 
> 
> I wrote chapter 12 for a reason. There's a reason Lexa is acting the way she is. There's a reason for Ontari, and for pushing Clarke.
> 
> If it's too much angst for you, or you disagree with how the story is panning out - please stop reading; you don't have to intentionally upset yourself over my amateur writing. It's not worth it, and the last thing I wanted to do by writing was to cause someone pain. Please don't DM me with insults for the story or my choices for it. I nixed my email from my profile to keep that from happening due to some less than constructive messages. It won't change what I have planned, so please be respectful even if you disagree.
> 
> I am 100% up for constructive criticism. I love hashing out theories with you guys, and seeing what you see after you read a chapter.
> 
> That being said I will be updating again soon (hopefully over the holiday weekend) and I will keep writing until I finish this work.
> 
> For everybody else - thank you so much for all of your support / kudos / theories and I hope you keep tagging along with me until the very end. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Thirteen **

  

 

Lexa stands before the stained glass for what feels like the longest minute of her life – hands clasped in a death grip on her own wrists behind her. Her nails are threatening to draw blood even through the material of her Commander’s coat. Her mind is racing through her entire conversation with Clarke. She watches as the mid-afternoon sun aligns perfectly with the multi-colored glass painting her body various shades of viridian, indigo, and cerulean. Her eyes focusing on the hues of blue so similar to Clarke’s eyes – eyes that she watched cloud over in pain and flee from her own.

 

Clarke believed falling from the sky and unknowingly enacting the spirit’s ritual was her own fault; that the Summit and Lexa’s troubles were the product of only her actions. _Jok._

 

Heda had applauded Lexa for her control. Lexa wanted to beat the shit out of herself. Her Alpha – well that was another beast entirely.

 

Heda had answered the Chase for her people.

 

Lexa had claimed Clarke for herself.

 

An now she had lied to more than just Clarke.

 

 _You did not lie to Clarke,_ her head admonished, _you omitted_.

 

"Same thing." She growls.

 

She was supposed to tell Clarke all of the Summit's reactions and final ruling as well as her own feelings towards it all – she had come to this Library to do just that. Why had Heda chosen that moment to rear her self-righteous and calculatingly cold head? Lexa had been so close to gaining everything she had ever wanted. Heda had tapped into her own fears and used them and her duty to push Clarke away, just like she had with—

 

Lexa’s Alpha shakes with a raging pain and anger hotly beneath her skin, burning through her muscles as the wolf aches to be set free. She can feel the tendons in her neck strain against the wolf as she forcibly hauls the Alpha back inside the vast spaces in her mind. Lexa could not release her wolf just yet. Her Alpha bursting free here would gain her nothing, and possible damage a treasured part of the tower by accident. Heda was rebuking her for her loss of control, for her weakness to not be able to handle what she took upon herself – what was bestowed on her by the spirit.

 _The very spirit you are doubting now, branwada pakstoka – you are a disgrace,_ her head berated.

Lexa snarls loudly, the echo of the wolf’s pain bouncing off the walls and forming a reverberating ring in the small enclosure. The stained glass before her begins to rattle as her intense growls increase. Suddenly the wolf rips free and Lexa hears the crunching sound of a chair splintering down to the marble floor before she realizes her hands have thrown it against a nearby wall.

The Alpha prowls, her sharp footfalls are deafening to her over-stimulated ears. Her feet kick through the pieces of wood littering the floor as she paces, not caring if her temper has attracted attention. She knows her Alpha must be projecting a flood of pheromones, but she can’t stop herself. 

Lexa makes a sudden turn, snapping her body to face the opposite direction to continue her pacing. The momentum of her gait causing the fabric of her jacket to whip about her.

 

Heda has made a mistake.

 

Clarke is _not_ a representation of their fear.

 

Feeling for Clarke will _not_ make them weak.

 

Clarke is different.

 

Clarke is special.

 

Clarke is not—will _NOT_ be another Costia.

 

She _cannot_ lose Clarke.

 

She is not dooming Clarke to a condemned fate.

 

That last thought knocks the breath from the Alpha’s lungs – actually it gets caught in her throat and she has to cough to release her constricted airway. Her steps falter to a complete stop and she feels a tremor race up her spine – cramming into the base of her skull and up into her cranial cavity. This strange twinge continues to beat against her skull base until her wolf snarls angrily in her ears – demanding for Lexa to move her lagging feet.

 

The wolf knows this nagging feeling, and Lexa is beginning to understand it too. Her feet take off.

 

The Alpha powers through the narrow columns of the Library, whipping past pages and frozen scribes pressed against the bookcases to steer clear of her path. The sensation grows stronger, the thorny pricks seeping into the muscles in the back of her neck and down into her shoulder blades.

 

Her wolf abruptly jerks on Lexa’s reins, forcing her to halt as the source of the torturous tremors lies around the corner.

 

Lexa can feel Clarke – she can smell the Omega’s distress and surprise, and a bit of wariness. Lexa can also smell another; an Alpha and not just any Alpha – that Azgeda wolf, Ontari. Lexa’s Alpha growls hotly in her chest, but she keeps her distance and settles her wolf. She listens.

 

Clarke and _Ontari_ are talking.

 

Clarke is upset. Lexa wants to whine. Clarke is upset and this Azgeda wolf knows it. How dare Ontari take advantage. How dare she even speak with Clarke. The Alpha instantly wants to leap into their space, separate the Omega from the other wolf and keep her close.

 

Ontari wants to take Clarke somewhere. Lexa’s eyes widen and she feels a very real rush of panic set in. Heda takes a step to rip this reunion apart, when she hears the Omega speak up. The Alpha holds her breath as she hears the barely masked sadness in Clarke’s voice.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for the offer, Ontari. I appreciate it, but I believe my guard probably wouldn’t want me to leave with…” The Omega gestures lightly at the Alpha in front of her.

 

“I could get you by those mutts, prisa, if that is your wish.”

 

“Thank you again, but I think I just need to be alone right now. I fear I won’t be the best company. I hope you can respect that.”

 

Clarke watches as the Azgeda Alpha’s grin falters for a fleeting second before a genuine smile – a small one, but genuine – pulls at the Alpha’s lips. A softer look passes over Ontari’s eyes and her voice drops to match it.

 

“Sha, Klark. I understand. I wish for you to find what you are looking for, prisa. I do not like seeing your sunny disposition so clouded.”

 

Clarke purses her lips together, not exactly sure how to respond to the Alpha’s words. She is so used to the arrogant, pompous side of this wolf that this sincerity has thrown her wolf off-kilter and standing tentative in its presence.

 

“After all, it is _not_ the most attractive look on you, prisa.”

 

And there it is. Clarke almost sighs in relief as she falls back into her comfort zone with Ontari’s teasing jibe. This Ontari – she can handle. This Ontari – Clarke knows how to act around. The Omega quirks her lips up into a slight grin and rolls her eyes.

 

“I’ll just _have_ to make sure to not to disappoint next time. Now, are you going to continue blocking the exit or am I going to have to move you myself?”

 

This makes Ontari break out into a wide grin and she slides dramatically to the side, bowing at her hips and holding her hands in an arch as she sweeps into position.

 

“Certainly! At your leave, _prisa_ Klark.” Ontari’s facetious tone returns at full force.

 

The Omega huffs good manneredly and has the urge to push the Alpha over onto her annoying behind.

 

“Ass.” Clarke barks out in a mumbled chuckle as she passes the still bowing Alpha.

 

“Till next time, prisa!”

 

Ontari straightens her posture and watches the Omega disappear from view. As soon as the blonde is out of ear shot, the Alpha’s disposition hardens and her pheromones flare.

 

“Enjoying the show, Heda?” The Azgeda wolf’s taunt is not lost in translation.

 

Heda moves from her position and stands a few feet from the posturing Azgeda wolf. Lexa slackens her form into an almost bored stance, keeping her pheromones at a steady pulse that is natural for her status – she will not allow this Ice wolf to think her pelt is worthy of challenging Heda’s Alpha.

 

Her voice, however, is hard and flat. “You knew I was here, and yet you did not alert Klark – instead you meant to take her from out under her guard.”

 

The Azgeda wolf bristles and Lexa can see Ontari’s wolf practically vibrating under the other girl’s flesh. “Klark may not have been able to sense your presence due to her state of mind, but _I_ knew you were there, Heda. Azgeda _always_ knows.”

 

The underlying implication in the Ambassador’s words has Lexa’s hackles internally rising. She feels the muscles in her jaw aching to twitch and clench in this Azgeda wolf’s charged air.

 

“It would be wise not to try my patience Azgeda wolf.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Heda. If I _was_ trying, you would _know_.”

 

Ontari is waiting for Lexa to take the bait – to rise to her provocation and lash out as an Alpha is expected to do when challenged. Heda is patient. Heda can wait. She does not impulsively act against coalition delegates – even the most challenging ones like this irritating Alpha.

 

Lexa lifts her chin and the aura around her sparks to life.

 

“You will stay clear of the Omega levels of this tower as you were commanded. You will _not_ engage with any of them, including Clarke, unless under my direct permission.”

 

The command is blistering in its weight and impossible for any wolf to deny or shy away from. Ontari bitterly forces her neck to the side in deference to her Heda and submits in the face of Lexa’s Alpha.

 

“Now leave my sight.”

 

Lexa watches the Azgeda Ambassador storm off at a grueling pace from the Library through narrowed green eyes. Lexa’s Alpha sighs in a mix of satisfaction and frustration. Once Heda is settled and her Alpha is calm, Lexa closes her eyes in a moment of quiet contemplation.

 

Clarke.

 

She needs to make things right with Clarke. 

 

Lexa needs to fix Heda’s mess before – as Anya had put it –  it blows up in her face. If it hasn't already...

  

* * *

 

Clarke hurries past the guards lining the junctures of the tower walls and the servants going about their work. She knows Ryder has fallen in behind her and is following after her speedy tread. The Omega barely spares anyone a glance as she moves, unaware of where her feet are carrying her. At this point she can’t seem to care – she just lets her muscles propel her to where her wolf needs her to be. 

When Clarke blinks the haze away from her mind, she finds herself looking out over the training grounds Anya had pummeled her into. Her ribs still ache when she breathes but she finds it is a welcome pain – she knows there is a reason for this pain; it will make her stronger, will make her learn faster, and will bring Clarke closer to her wolf.

 

There is a reason for this pain.

 

Maybe that is why her shoes led her back here. Maybe her wolf is telling her there is something to be gained in this place. Something to push her.

 

Clarke doesn’t pause to think about any more possibilities; she’s tired of her mind and her emotions. She acts on instinct and begins to sprint down the field. She performs the same forms and routine that Anya had set for her after Tondisi. Her wolf yips at the freedom in this and the familiarity – even at the scream of her sore muscles as she forces them to contract under her exercises.

 

After about an hour has gone by, Clarke's steady trot fumbles out into a slow jog as she stretches out her arms – bending one above her head at the elbow for a time before switching and repeating the action to the other. The stretch feels welcome and the sweat covering her skin is an accomplishment. 

The Omega looks up to the fading sky. The hues of reds and yellows are beginning to swirl together as the sun merges into the oncoming night.

 

She turns to the entrance of the tower intent on going back to her quarters, when she stops and takes in the form of the Beta General observing her. Clarke has no idea how long Anya has been leaning against the doorway, and she decides that she doesn’t wish to know. Clarke takes another deep, relaxing breath and walks towards the Beta. 

The look on Anya’s face is deceptive – she seems to be serious and sad, and peeved but exhausted all at once. Above all she looks somewhat apologetic as if she felt she was intruding on Clarke’s privacy. It’s more emotion than Clarke has ever seen on the Beta, and she doesn’t know what to make of it at all.

 

For a brief second she swears she catches the faint whiff of Lexa’s Alpha.

 

Anya does not give her the time to figure it out, as the Beta immediately pushes from the wall and turns with a tilt to her head that indicates Clarke should follow.

 

She does.

 

For once, Clarke is grateful that the Beta has this silent, brooding side to her. She knows Anya will not push – well not this way at least, not in the ‘I want to hear all of your emotional troubles so let’s have a gab session together’ – Anya will beat her into the ground to push her wolf but the General will not push this. And Clarke can’t help but feel immensely grateful; she knows her scent must be radiating this as well. Maybe that’s another reason why Anya hasn’t uttered a word as they began climbing the tower stairs. 

Anya leads Clarke to a floor she hasn’t been to yet. The floor is more like a hall of memories than an actual room to congregate and spend time in. The hall is free of tables, chairs, tapestries, everything that makes a room feel welcoming. There are tall iron candle holders that offer the great space the flickering of life in the low lit flames. Statues spread out through the room. Some seem extremely ancient as the facial features and once detailed clothing has all but disintegrated into an unrecognizable slate. Most of the statues are covered in ivy and have not been kept after, which Clarke finds odd as there are plenty of serving wolves cleaning her quarters at all hours.

 

This room feels old.

 

It feels ancient.

 

It feels sad.

 

The air feels so clean and light, but the aura in this place is anything but.

 

Anya allows Clarke to walk among the rows of statues – men and women line the rows in no particular order – the oldest statues seem to be clustered towards the back of the room where they entered. The Omega passes by each sculpture, her artistic eyes taking in every chip and carving in each face she walks by. Some are dressed in ceremonial armor, embellished with swords and various weaponry. While others are simply clad in gowns or robes, billowing out from their arms and hips as if they would sweep across the floor in tidal waves with each step.

 

She imagines what each person whose likeness is etched into these marbled forms was like. Who were they? And why do they all hold the same burdened, far off gaze?

 

Even without irises and color, Clarke can almost see the cumbersome weight carved into their eternally seeing eyes. Perhaps this is why the room feels as it does. These chilled marble beings unable to express anything else.

 

As Clarke reaches the end of the vast lines of warriors and scholars, she almost trips over her own feet.

 

At the end of this row of most recent statues, is Lexa.

 

The Alpha pulling at Clarke’s very patience and need is _here -_ rigidly standing at attention with one hand covering the pommel of her sword. Her red sash and pouldron in place over her stiff shoulder as the sash and her Commander’s jacket blow out in a wave beside her as if a gust of wind had abruptly disturbed the fabric.

 

The Alpha looks every bit of Heda as she should…but this sculpture’s face...

 

Clarke can see Lexa’s face in this carving. In the dips and strong lines are the Alpha’s delicate features which should project all the strength of a leader – which to some extent they do. However, Clarke can see more. She can see _Lexa_. And that same burdened look is in this Lexa’s eyes.

 

It breaks her heart.

 

Before she can stop herself, Clarke reaches out and traces a finger down the cold marble cheek. She feels Anya approaching behind her, and retracts her hand.

 

“What is this place, Anya?” Her voice is breathless and shaken. She hears the Beta sigh and watches her walk past Lexa’s likeness and out onto an open balcony where the stars are out in full force tonight.

 

Clarke looks back to Lexa’s frozen face one last time before following the Beta General out into the cool night air.

 

“Sit, Klark. It is a nice night – we should enjoy it.”

 

The Beta lowers herself onto an assortment of cushions that have been haphazardly tossed about the balcony. Clarke caves and does the same. She is eager for the Beta to explain what she has just seen. The statues were a shock in themselves, but seeing the last of Lexa has unsettled her and her wolf greatly. It reminds her of a funeral marker people would carve in tribute to their leaders from the old world. 

Something about the words ‘funeral’ and ‘Lexa’ in the same sentence sparks an immediate and all encompassing dread that spreads throughout Clarke. She tries to look up into the sky and as Anya pointed out, the stars were beautiful and radiant tonight. They did not stop this feeling of trepidation to ease from her wolf.

 

“Heda is an Alpha wolf from a royal line. Her blood reveals this to be true. As such, her scent is stronger, her mind is sharper, and her wolf is a force of nature. She is what it means to be Alpha – to be _pakstoka_.”

 

The fierce pride in the Beta’s voice was captivating. Clarke could see and hear the loyalty Lexa inspired among her people.

 

“This room is to honor those who have served the packs. Some were not great – some were not what true pakstoka should be – but they did the best that they could with the time that they were given.”

 

The Omega kept her gaze to the deepening purple sky as the Beta spoke. She did not dare interrupt Anya as this seemed to be a private and fairly personal piece of her people’s history.

 

“Leksa is a true pakstoka, Klark. She is the first Heda to unite all of the clans and to create this tentative peace amongst our people. She is Heda, but she is also _Leksa_. She is my seken no matter how old she grows in years, or how stubborn she attempts to be to push me away. She is Alpha, but she is forced to be more – to be whatever her people need her to be.

And this weighs on her more than any can know.”

 

Clarke can hear the blood rushing to her ears as her heart pumps blood up through her body and out through her ventricles. The loud pounding is keeping her locked to this moment, and she keeps her breathing even and slow.

 

“To be Heda is to serve. To be Heda is to sacrifice. And for most of these statues – to be Heda was to live and die alone.”

 

Despite her best effort, Clarke chokes out a sob from her chest as she imagines that statue being the only thing that is left of Lexa should she pass away this very minute. That cold, stoic replica not capturing a sliver of the true spirit hidden within the Alpha.

 

“I have never known a greater honor than to serve as her General. If it is within my power, I will keep their fate from becoming hers.”

 

The Beta finally turns her attention to Clarke who is struggling not to let a gathering of tears flow freely down her face – the Omega head is still tilted to the skies.

 

“I know you are not of the ground, Klark. I know you have done nothing to earn what is being forced upon you by our ways and the coalition. I know you owe us very little, and may not trust in Heda’s motives – but I am asking this of you Klark kom Skai.

Do not forsake Leksa just yet, _beja_. She is still learning just as you are.”

 

At this Clarke locks her eyes onto the Beta who is staring at her with such a desperate plea in her hazel eyes. The Omega can do nothing but stare back, mouth slightly agape and choking on every breath she takes.

Finally, she breaks their connection, blinking her eyelids rapidly and expelling all of the tears she had fought to contain. Clarke sucks in another trembling breath and nods her head shakily as she wraps her arms around her knees. She settles her face against the uneven planes of her kneecaps, hiding her tears even from the stars.

 

This day has drained everything from her and her head feels as if the entire sky has settled down upon it.

 

A few minutes later, Clarke feels the light weight of a hand grace the top of her head. She knows it is only Anya and draws comfort from the action. Clarke knows the Beta would not ask things from her if they were not important – she feels she knows Anya and the Beta’s general code of honor to understand that much.

A shuddering sigh leaves her and ripples through her shoulders.

 

“O—okay, alright.”

 

Clarke lifts her head to look at the Beta. “I’ll do my best, Anya – I _will_. But I won’t play touch and go anymore. I won’t wait for her forever. If she wants me, she has to tell me. I’m ready to face the consequences of the Chase, and I need you to help me. I need you to push me – I need my wolf. If I am to have any chance of helping Lexa, or myself, I need your guidance now more than ever. Beja,  _sis ai au_ (please, _help me_ ).”

 

The Beta is looking at Clarke in an almost new light. Clarke can see a bit of the pride that shone in the General’s eyes when she spoke so passionately about Lexa, has now been gifted to her as well.

 

“I will teach you. I will be your guide.”

 

Clarke offers the Beta a small smile as she nods her chin against her knees and looks back to the stars. They sit and watch the night pass through the sky for a time. A blink of light shoots across the blackness in a powerful flash – a shooting star.

 

“You will be a great wolf, Klark kom Skai.”

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During the Hall of Heda's (as my friends like to call it), I was definitely feeling the scene from LoK when they visited the old beat up air temple. I figured that grounder culture would have something to honor the past Heda's somewhere, and this fit my story well.
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'Princess Mononoke' by The East Winds Ensemble


	14. Enter The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Overview:
> 
> Tris is a bumbling baby giraffe.
> 
> Clarke engages her wolf.
> 
> Tondisi has left you a message.
> 
> BE AWARE: This chapter contains strong language and violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Fourteen **

 

  

Tris practically runs down the corridor of Polis tower. She has been in training for most of the morning, and now she is racing to get all of her chores completed for Clarke’s quarters before the prisa wakes up. The folds of bedding and cleaned furs are nearly toppling from her arms as she manages to swerve and duck out of the paths of guards, gonas and other attendants.

Clarke had not been in her room for lunch or for dinner the day before. Tris would have been a bit worried if not for Luna stopping by the kitchens with word that Clarke had been holed up in the Polis Library all day. Tris had thanked the Omega politely and Luna had given her one of the cook’s honey cakes from that day’s sanch. Tris decided then that she liked Luna – not as much as Clarke but she could appreciate kindness when it was offered. 

The flustered Beta grabs at the end of an uncooperative fur as she descends the stairs from the east wing when she hears the sudden ear-piercing clamor of metal hitting stone.

 

Tris freezes in place as the sounds of growling and harsh snapping echo slightly up the darkened tunnel. She holds completely still on the stairs, not daring to take another step and leave the seclusion and cover of the stairwell. 

Her skin ripples with a cold shiver as she hears the unmistakable voice of one of the clan delegates – one that she recognized from her first position in Polis at the local stables. Her lips curl at the distasteful memory of dealing with this _nomonjoka_. The graveling snarl of the Azgeda Prince still sends slight tremors shooting up her legs – the pheromones invading the small space where she is hiding is becoming miserable. The spike of another bout of wolf rams into the first with the force of a wave crashing against rock. 

Tris manages to clasp her hand over her mouth as her stomach turns into nauseous knots. She hates being caught unawares between two competing wolves – she hates being in the same vicinity really. The primal urge to dominate and show off has never been an attractive quality to Tris; she’s always preferred the tactile grace of outwitting her enemies by using their strengths against them. Being as thin and tall as she was, this strategy was her saving grace in training. The stench of these Betas is atrocious and she is positive it will take absolutely forever to leave her clothing. This cloud of noxious fumes isn’t as horrible as it could be though – at least these were Beta males and not Alphas, but still – _gross_.

 

A voice that does not belong to the Prince, but is definitely just as forceful with its inflections bounces jaggedly up the stairwell.

 

“If the claim was to be invalidated, then the Omega would have been absolved of the Chase and remained in Polis with the other Omegas. Here, where we could have courted her equally. But the claim was _NOT_ rendered void and the Omega is _still_ under Heda’s influence. _Your_ clan made sure to steer us all into this unfavorable outcome. Why?!”

 

“We could not let the Omega be released of her position.” The Azgeda Prince spits out. “ _If_ the claim had been dispersed, the Omega would be allowed to live out her days here just as the Floukru bitch – _useless to us all_ as she wastes her potential lost in books and fruitless ideas. And Heda _lets_ her! This new Omega took part in the _ritual_ and it _will_ continue until she is granted to one of _our_ clans.”

 

“And whose clan will be the victor, hmm? We were promised the last one when Sankru helped Azgeda manipulate Heda’s former bitch. Where is our recompense for _that_ venture?! Nothing more than a few soilless plots of land.” The Sankru delegate scoffs roughly in his throat as if that last gift was an affront to his people. “And what will be offered _this_ time? Sankru helped you _alter_ the rules of one of our clans most sacred rituals – that action does not come at a meager price, Azgeda Prince.”

 

Tris hears the tell-tale sound of the Prince’s impatient snarl sweeping up the stairwell. She presses herself more firmly against the stone walls – trying desperately to merge herself into nothing more than a shadow. Her toes in her shoes feel numb as she curls them in the rough material. She should _not_ be here. She should _not_ be hearing _this_. Tris desperately tries to hold in every last wisp of her scent that could alert these wolves to her presence.

 

“The Omega _will_ be claimed through hand to hand combat as we all agreed. The Chase will be honored to completion and the ritual set right again as it has always been in times before. _Azgeda_ will be victorious this time, and Sankru will receive all that they deserve as our allies.”

 

“You Azgeda pakstokas must have something of great interest hidden up your pelts if you are _this_ confident. What _are_ you keeping from your allies, Ice wolf?” The amusing lilt does not completely cover the suspicion hidden underneath the Sand wolf’s question.

 

The Prince snorts haughtily. “We have everything under control. The specifics are none of your concern for now. Just make sure to keep your pack in line and on target. Do this, and your place will be sealed alongside Azgeda in the coming winter. The _Azplana_ swears it.”

 

Tris almost gasps at mention of the Ice Queen. The two delegates continue bickering and huffing at one another over a few other minor issues between their clans as Tris tries to keep this conversation fresh in her mind.

 

She has to tell someone.

 

She _should_ tell someone.

 

_Who the heck do I talk to about this – is it the right decision to reveal this conversation; it is right?_

 

Should she tell _Clarke_? It involved her after all… _Skrish!_

 

The Beta is knocked back into the present as she hears the distant shuffle of the two delegates moving farther and farther away. Something must have spooked them into moving on, or they finished their scheming. Tris berates herself for not continuing to listen – now she may have missed out on another bit of pivotal information.

 

_Skrish, Jok, skrish._

 

Tris waits a moment until their scents have mostly diluted somewhat before leaping around the corner in a haze and smacking straight into the solid form of the Trikru General. Tris’ scent immediately spikes in horror at what she’s done and fear of being caught for spying on clan delegates. It can’t be technically spying if they are having those kinds of conversations in the damned hallway right? 

The General glares down at the clumsy Beta girl and holds back a trite word as her eyes flit back to the girl’s point of exit. The words die on her tongue as she traces the edge of a pointed canine thoughtfully instead. The Beta makes a snap decision, shoving a fallen fur into the girl’s arms before grasping a skinny bicep and pulling Tris off to the side of the corridor. The Beta attendant looks petrified in the face of Anya’s wolf.

 

“Calm yourself, gada (girl). I am not here to deal out punishment, but you _will_ tell me what your ears are doing skulking in stairwells instead of attending to your duties.” Anya drawls out the words with an almost bored interest even though Tris can see the alert glint in the Beta’s eyes.

 

Tris sucks in a short, surprised breath in realization. The General didn’t know – she hadn’t heard! The delegates must have abandoned their conversation when the Trikru General approached. By the Moon, she should tell the the General!

 

_Does she think I know something? Jok – She’s looking at me like she knows that I know something. And I do! I—I know stuff! I know what they know a-and she should know too!_

Tris swallows and forces the words out of her throat in a jumble. They are as hurried as the thoughts speeding through her brain – she curses her lips for making her sound like such an bumbling idiot.

 

“I—I think I may have heard _something_ from t-the Azgeda—”

 

“— _What_ did you hear from Azgeda? _Min op_ ( _Speak_ )!” The Beta General’s hushed voice turns sharp and acts as a bucket of striking ice water over Tris’ head.

 

_Stop stuttering! You are paksotka!_

 

“I think something bad is going to happen. I think something bad is going to happen to Klark.”

  

* * *

 

Lincoln and Ryder perch in front of Clarke as if they are studying the usefulness of a new kind of weapon. Ryder sits on his haunches with a grouchy perplexed dip to his furry brows. Lincoln merely holds a solemn hint to his lips, but his eyes are alight with questions and possibilities. At least one of her teachers for today seems to have hope for her, or at least for what Anya has asked them to do for her in the General’s absence. 

The Beta General had suddenly been called away for some meeting or something of the like – in any case that should have meant Clarke could have spent another day in the Library. Luna had wanted to show her a part that she thought Clarke would enjoy - a section dedicated to the sky beyond the sky. Clarke had taught Luna that phrase meant space - that Clarke had not come from the sky at all, but from space. She wasn't sure if Luna actually understood, but the animated Omega had brightened at the prospect of learning something about Clarke's home.

However, the Library date was not to be. After the intense conversation with the Anya the night before, the Beta wanted to get Clarke's training started even if she was not there barking orders for her today.

 

The Beta General had said Ryder and Lincoln would push her to her body’s limit to see how much stamina she currently had to offer in her training. Stamina was supposedly super important for a swift shift. The two Betas would run her ragged, but Anya would still be her guide. Shifting was apparently a tricky business and if you did it wrong, you could get seriously hurt. Clarke had almost scoffed at that information as she knew Trikru children shifted into pups with ease.

 

Anya had merely shaken her head and promised to explain everything Clarke would need to know about attempting her first lucid shift. 

So here she was – sitting cross legged in front of two Betas that still looked like gonas but were now reduced to being two overgrown baby sitters. They all huffed in sync with their own predicaments. 

It was Lincoln who spoke first.

 

“Alright, Klark. I suppose Onya has not told you much of a pakstoka keryon (wolf spirit) and the shift?”

 

Clarke shakes her head in the negative. Anya had said she would be the Omega’s guide, but if Lincoln was offering up some free information, Clarke wasn’t going to turn the opportunity down. Lincoln nods as if he already guessed this, and clears his throat.

 

“Wolves on the ground need the Moon spirit as well as various pieces of the earth to awaken their own wolf spirit. All wolves learn that all of the wonders of the ground, the oceans, the forest – they are all a gift and hold great value in the cycle of life. To be one with your wolf is to be one with the world around you. Our wolves are bound to the earth.”

 

Clarke stares at the tanned Beta with a quizzical expression but does her best to soak up every word.

 

“What does your clan have on your home? Do you have trees and grasses? Rivers? Winter winds or the bite of snow? Sunrises and Blood Moons?”

 

Clarke looks down at her feet and shakes her head again. “No,” Clarke clears her throat, “the Ark has farm station which has a few trees, I think – I’ve never seen them though – and vegetables so we have some organic foods. The air is sterilized and filtered through a recycling system; same with the water. My unit on the Ark often faced away from the sun – I’ve only seen it a few times. I never saw the moon before I came to the ground.”

 

Ryder and Lincoln exchange worried and slightly disbelieving glances.

 

“Your _home_ ,” Ryder almost chokes on the word as if it could reach out and transport him to the Ark by magic, “it truly sounds – _cold_.”

 

Clarke wants to agree with him but somehow the comment makes her hackles rise in defense of her past and the people she had to leave in it. “Isn’t the Ice Nation _cold_? Yet they still shift.”

 

“Sha, Azgeda _is_ cold and harsh,” Lincoln begins, “– but they still have the ice, the waters of their mountain streams, the air, and the vastness of the skies full of stars and sun.”

 

Clarke nods in understanding. Her people have truly cut themselves off from who they once were – their nature – their own spirit; their wolves. Did they even realize this?

 

“What do I do now?”

 

Ryder rubs a large hand behind his neck as his lips purse before answering. “Anya said to wear you out to try and shift, but with what you have revealed of your clan - we may need to change a few things around; push a bit harder. There may be some methods we can try.”

 

* * *

 

Lexa exits the eastern tower stairwell and walks out to the empty balcony just above the training grounds. She takes in the mix of coalition clans using the grounds today for training. Her eyes quickly dart to a flash of blonde and the faint whiff of Omega sweat and frustration meets her nose. _Clarke,_ her heart quickens. Lexa smiles softly and leans against one of the pillars lining the balcony to watch Clarke determinedly attempt to angle away from Lincoln as the Beta swipes a fist close to the blonde's clenched jaw. The Alpha tenses from her position and her hands subconsciously clench around her biceps as Lincoln’s strike grazes the skin of Clarke’s chin. Her eyes narrow in on the faint scratch and sight of red bubbling from the scuffed surface.

 

“Hei Leksa.”

 

Lexa almost balks in surprise at the soft voice off to her side – a voice she once knew very well; the same voice that had used to know _her_ very well. The Alpha sucks in a subtle breath through her nose to steady herself and turns her head in acknowledgment.

 

“Kostia.” 

 

* * *

 

Clarke is almost to the point of falling to her knees – not caring if she appears weak in front of the wolves present around her. She is hunched over, hands on her thighs as her muscles scream at her brain for allowing her to do this to herself. Sweat is rolling down her brow and making her tight grounder clothing very uncomfortable. Lincoln and Ryder both have been trying to force her to exhaustion in hopes that her natural instincts to protect herself would allow her wolf to leap forward. She hasn’t even felt a single claw lengthen or the tightness around her eyes narrowing. Her skin is slicked and heated, but no amount of white fur has appeared.

Clarke looks up to find her two Beta tutors in some sort of verbal brawl. Lincoln grabs at Ryder’s arm roughly but the larger Beta easily rips it out of reach with a low growl and shoves Lincoln back a few feet by his shoulders.

 

“Teik ai dula dison op, Linkon (Let me do this Lincoln)!”

 

"Dison na nou flou, Ryder, beja (This will not work, Ryder, please)!"

 

Lincoln fervently shakes his head with a loud huff and waves his hands – defeated – over his head in frustration. He is not happy with whatever Ryder has planned for her. Clarke looks in as an uneasiness drops into her gut. Lincoln turns away from Ryder for a moment to shake his head.

 

"Onya, na nou gaf dison (Anya, will not want this)."

 

Clarke tips her head up as Ryder moves within arm’s reach.

 

“Wonwe noumou get kiln, strikon, en Onya ste nou hir (Only way to be certain, little one, and Anya is not here).”

 

Ryder suddenly kicks out one of Clarke’s legs and she crashes to her knee with a pained grunt. She looks up at the Beta incredulously.

 

“You are _weak_ , Klark.” Ryder moves to kick at her again and she leaps back, landing on her heels. The Beta follows with ease and grabs for her. Clarke spins away and turns her head to look for Lincoln when the air is knocked out of her lungs. Ryder pulls elbow back as if to strike at her again, but Clarke ducks and tumbles to the ground gasping.

 

“Your clan knew – your _family_ must have known as well. That is why they _threw_ you away – abandoned you.”

 

Clarke’s shallow gasps hitch in her lungs as the Beta’s words tear into her.

 

“They knew what you were – _you_ are not special.”

 

She stumbles to her feet and manages to keep her balance blocking the swing of Ryder’s arm before he follows it with an upper cut – sending her back to the dirt with a crunch. She wipes the blood from her nose and winces – the pain is sharp and hot.

 

“You are _damaged_.”

 

The Beta stomps down a foot in front of Clarke’s nose, the dust billowing up into her eyes before and she realizes what will come next.

 

“ _Broken_.”

 

The boot plummets down towards her face as she rolls away once again. Her back and shoulder protest every move, but she shoves the pain away as it blossoms over the small of her back.

 

“A useless  _burden_.”

 

Clarke has landed on her stomach a few feet away from the taunting Beta. She almost wants to agree and crawl away just to stop this blatant torment; call for Anya and get the hell out of here.

 

“ _Heda_ knows it too.”

 

Clarke feels her whole body stiffen as her eyes whip over to lock onto the Beta like a missile. Ryder takes in the way the Omega’s fingers curl into the dirt and form tight fists next to her head as cold blue eyes stare up at him – flashing with a glint of a wolf. Ryder bristles. Finally, some progress. Time to go in for the kill.

 

“Perhaps Heda is right to allow the Kongeda to question the Chase and her Claim. Perhaps Heda has finally seen the weakness in you Skai gada."

 

Lincoln flinches a few feet behind Ryder. His shoulders are tight with anxiety and Clarke can see the pity laying thick in his downcast eyes. Ryder blocks the Beta from view as the heel of his boot digs into her spine.

 

"Perhaps Heda already plans to rut with another more _worthy_ mate – one who is what an Omega wolf _should_ be.”

 

Ryder flicks his wrist lazily over his shoulder towards the veranda above the training field where Lexa and Costia are talking easily. Clarke's breath stutters in her chest. She hadn't even sensed Lexa nearby or scented the brunette above the smell of Alpha and Beta musk oozing out of the training wolves. She watches Costia brush her hand languidly against Lexa’s forearm in a friendly manner before removing it and chuckling to herself.

 

“You will _never_ be what Heda requires in a mate.”

 

Clarke watches as Lexa gazes at this other Omega – an Omega who _isn’t_ Clarke – with unguarded eyes; eyes Clarke has only ever seen Lexa offer to  _her_.

 

“You will _never_ be pakstoka. Yu laik _kwelen_ (You are _weak_ ).”

 

Clarke sees red.

 

And then nothing.

  

* * *

  

Ontari and a few Azgeda gonas linger in the training field as they practice their forms. They stretch before swiping at each other with precise lunges and kicks meant to break limbs instead of stun. A Beta female with dirtied blonde hair crashes to the ground after a well placed blow to her ribs by the Alpha, Ontari.

The Beta bends herself back onto her hands as she propels herself upwards and onto her feet before charging the Alpha in a blitz. Ontari plants her heels in the dirt and deftly shifts her torso to the side as she catches one of the Beta’s arms in a vice grip before she rolls the Beta over her shoulder and plummeting to the dirt floor once again.

 

This time the Beta remains down and rolls onto her back, huffing as Ontari hovers above her with an arm extended in the Beta’s direction. The Beta accepts the gesture and Ontari hauls her to her feet.

 

“Did I stun you into silence, Eko, or am I getting the silent treatment for my victory prize?”

 

Echo grunts and jerks her arm away from the gloating Alpha. “It is an off day for me. Do not flatter yourself. Besides it could be worse – at least I am not fos to _that_ disaster.”

 

Ontari turns her gaze to Echo’s blonde point of interest.

 

“Omega or no, there is nothing to be done with that one. She is barely in touch with her wolf. No matter how good she smells, she will never be more than she is now.”

 

“She is learning.”

 

“She is a lost cause.”

 

Ontari snarls at the Beta and moves back into the ring. “ _Again_!”

 

After Ontari has successfully beaten her gona pack to a bruised and less than attractive luster, she allows them to take rest under the few trees planted near the training field. 

Echo and a few of the gonas watch the Omega struggle to block a punch from the Beta called Ryder. She snickers as the blonde takes a direct hit to her shoulder and flails as she tries to catch her balance. This girl is failing at the few basic techniques Echo can identify. She snorts as Ryder clips the girl’s nose and it runs red upon the back of her hand. She nearly yips as Ontari not so subtly jabs her pointed elbow into Echo’s bruised side, glaring at the Beta from the corner of her eye.

 

“Who pissed in your furs this morning, Ontari? _Skrish_!” The Beta rubs her side indignantly as the Alpha merely rolls her eyes and turns away.

 

A blood curdling roar has the hair on the back of her neck standing at attention, and her whole Azgeda pack jerks towards the source of the sound. Ontari is a vibrating mess of tension beside her and the Beta has to cover her nose as the Alpha rudely stinks up the area in a hurry.

  

* * *

 

Clarke moves like she is a force of nature – dipping in a fluid arc before propelling forward and ripping out a chunk of Ryder’s shoulder with wolf’s teeth.

 

A primal roar explodes out of Clarke’s bloodied jaws and all who are within the training arena look up in alarm at the sound. A deathly silent anticipation sits stagnant on the air before a gust of wind carries the flood of this new wolf’s struggling scent filled with a longing desperation for the shift. 

Lincoln reacts immediately and holds up his hands in a non-threatening manner, but it means little to the shaking Omega in front of him. He watches as Clarke does not recede and instead stalks forward towards the two Betas on the soles of her feet. Lincoln’s eyes widen as Clarke’s stance dawns on him.

 

She is _hunting_ them.

 

This could end very badly. He has to put a stop to this _now_. "Beja, Klark..."

 

Lincoln calls out the Omega’s name hoping his voice and her title will pull her mind back from the cage of her wolf. The Beta shudders as he spies himself reflected in the blue snares tracking his every move – all Lincoln can see in Clarke’s face and mannerisms is wolf, no trace of the blonde inside stares back at him.

 

Clarke’s nose twitches.

 

The smell of fresh blood splattered across the dirt and the feel of it hot on the tips of her canines send her wolf into a frenzy. Her lips curl back over her elongated teeth as a feral growl announces her intentions.

Just as the Omega is about bolt for Ryder, perhaps sensing his weakness and the stench of his wound, two calloused hands yank the sides of Clarke’s face away into an iron grip – palms settle firmly on both of her cheeks as fingers dig into her scalp and attempt to keep her still. Clarke thrashes mindlessly in this intruders hold. She lashes out with her hands and feet, tearing into this thing trapping her. Shapes ripple in front of her as she wrestles with this unknown mass of muscle and obstructive power.

 

Clarke twists and snarls in a futile attempt to free herself from this blurred figure until a painful eruption of Alpha pheromones slams against everything inside her in a scalding fit of snapping teeth and struggling yelps. Clarke lets out a half scream half howl as the hot musky air invades her nose and sears into her eyes, slipping under her eyelids and tearing straight down into her throat and lungs. Everything burns from the inside out, and every breath is agonizing as her wolf desperately fights to push this new oppressive force out. 

Her muscles cramp and release, ligaments twist and shift into places they should not. Her whole body is in agony and the constant grate of her bones against one another is relentless. If this is the shift – fuck it – she does not want it. Clarke lets loose another piercing howl as a strip of white erupts from her navel up to her sternum.

 

The crippling waves of Alpha crash violently into her convulsing ribcage and like the snap of a thinning rubber band – Clarke feels her wolf double over onto its back, showing the soft fur of her stomach before fading into the blackness behind her eyes. Figures begin turning into solid shapes, as Clarke pushes through the black spots contorting her line of sight. The seizing of her muscles quiet, and her bones stop trying to wrench her apart. What little white fur has appeared, fades and her canines retract.

She groans as she finally snatches back the control of her limbs. She imagines herself a tangled heap on the ground. She can feel that she has collapsed onto her legs – partially sitting and partially leaning into a steadfast body keeping her from face planting into the dirt. For that she is grateful. Her eyelids feel so heavy.

 

Clarke finds the strength to look up into the deep brown eyes of the wolf still clutching at her face. She is panting shallowly and so is the Azgeda Alpha stationed in front of her. Ontari’s eyes are focus into hard steel but riddled with worry as she keeps her gaze on Clarke. Clarke whimpers as her body continues twitching periodically and her muscles begin to spasm. She blinks her eyes a few more times as if she’s still pulling herself out from a heavily drugged state. 

As if on cue, her eyes dilate and what she’s done – and who is holding her – clearly becomes her reality again. Her terrified blue eyes dart around helplessly over the scene presented before her.

 

The tip of a gleaming blade is resting at the juncture of Ontari’s neck and shoulder. Clarke follows up the path of the sword until she meets the hilt, then the arm, to a familiar frame devoid of motion, and finally to the wielder – _Lexa_.

 

The Commander is growling menacingly in her throat and the pressure of her blades is starting to nick into Ontari’s flash. A breath chokes in Clarke’s throat as she swallows down her disgust from the taste of drying blood on her lips. Carefully, as to not spook either Alpha, Clarke reaches up with a shaky hand and rests her palm against Ontari’s. She gently squeezes the Alpha’s tense fingers. She sighs in relief when Ontari’s eyes soften and her hands slowly leave Clarke’s hair and her cheeks. 

The Azgeda wolf clenches her jaw and turns her neck to the side allowing Lexa’s blade to dig into her flesh a bit deeper. Ontari growls back at Lexa when her deference goes unanswered and grants her no reprieve. The responding flare of Alpha pheromones is not unexpected.

 

“ _What_ do you think you are doing _Azgeda_?” Lexa viciously roars into the Ice wolf’s face, a look of absolute rage plastered across her usually stoic features. Her chest rose sharply with each inhale and deflated into a thunderous rumble. 

Ontari holds back a petulant retort but the rough hiss of her voice implies it all the same.

 

“She was in distress and _you_ were not here. Sound familiar?”

 

A savage snarl bursts from Heda’s lips as she bares her teeth and Clarke sees the lean muscles in her arms tighten and strain as if Heda wished to behead Ontari this very second. Clarke shudders as she sees Ontari’s dark blood pooling out from the small cut and down into the lapel of her jacket.

 

“S-stop. Lexa, _STOP!_ ” The Omega’s frantic voice echoes throughout the arena.

 

No one breathes for fear of crossing an uncross-able line between clans. The heated energy in the air is almost stifling.

 

The Commander finally lowers her blade and sheaths it in one fluid motion. Her eyes do not leave Ontari and the Alpha’s chest is still vibrating with the unearthed fury of her wolf. Clarke can hear spikes of it crackling like gravel through her tense form.

 

“Prisa, I will leave you now.” Ontari reply is clipped, but she bows her head to Clarke before she briskly walks back to her Azgeda pack. The Ice wolf barks tersely at them to move their asses.

 

Lexa has yet to utter another word as she stands rigid as a statue.

 

Clarke stares after the Ice wolf – still overwhelmed with how this training session went so catastrophically wrong. Her arms and legs are starting to go numb. She thinks they may be shaking. Her body feels so cold. 

Before she can choke out a sob, Lexa is wrapping Clarke up in a protective blanket of her scent as she hoists the blonde into her arms. Clarke does not realize that her feet are no longer touching the ground until the Alpha has already carried her across the length of the training field and is beginning to climb up the stairs of the tower.

 

“L-Lexa.” Her voice sounds pathetically broken even to her own ears.

 

The Alpha does not stop walking, but tightens her hold on Clarke and pulls her firmly to her chest. Clarke eagerly accepts the closeness of the Alpha as her hands cling to the fabric of Lexa’s clothing. Tears prick at her tightly closed eyes and she can feel them burning her skin as they trail down her cheeks and over her bloody chin. She turns her head to press her face snugly into the pulsing skin of Lexa’s neck. The clear scent of Alpha – of Lexa – fills her nose and Clarke feels her trembling body sag even deeper into Lexa’s arms.

  

* * *

 

“What news from Tondisi?” Anya’s voice is a strong slap to the face for this poor Alpha boy who looks as if he is about to pass out from his journey. He looks as if he had not stopped for rest or water since his leader gave him leave.

 

“I-Indra, Trikru leader of Tondisi,” the boy rasps out through chapped lips, “reports that there are… strange workings around the land. Even more so after you left the village with Heda.”

 

Anya’s eyes narrow at this. “Explain.”

 

“The Valley, General, it’s the Valley where the prisa landed. Her _vessel_ has been taken apart – pieces are _missing_ , and the ripas…”

 

“What about the _ripas_?” Anya’s voice is hardened in anticipation for the unfortunate news that always seemed to appear while she was head of counsel in Lexa’s absence.

 

The boy shuffles his feet awkwardly and grips the lining of his hat before licking his lips and looking back up to the Trikru General. “T-They have _marked_ it, General – they…they have _relieved_ themselves all over the metal, and all around the landing site for miles.”

 

Anya lets out a rush of air as her back hits the sold frame of Heda’s throne. _Jok._

 

“No one can go near, General. It reeks too much of them and the ripas patrol the area daily now.”

 

Anya plants her elbows over her knees and leans her chin onto the backs of her interwoven fingers. Her face a mask of nothingness as her alarmed mind went wild with possibilities and potential threats. This news was most distressing. Indra would not send word if the Trikru leader thought this was nothing more than passing dinner conversation. There must be something else. Something Indra could not trust to a boy messenger.

 

Ripas meant one thing. Ripas branching out their territory meant another.

 

_Maunon._

And War.

 

“Very well, I will speak with Heda over this matter. Go report to the servant’s quarters – they will offer you lodging and a warm meal for your services.”

 

Anya watches the boy hastily bow and run from under her gaze. After he is out of earshot, she rubs her fingers over the bridge of her nose – of all the days to be Heda’s General.

 

“Did you get all of that, Titus?”

 

The robed man clasped in shadows steps in the room more fully. His narrowed gaze watching Anya as much as she is him.

 

“Sha, Onya. It appears there are more forces at work here than what we original thought.”

 

“So it would seem.” Anya’s voice is an irritated drawl.

 

“Heda will be returning from the training field soon.”

 

“Sha – and then she may be leaving for Tondisi.”

 

_We all might be._

 

  **TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little longer than the others as I will be leaving for vacation after the 4th for about a week. I will most likely still work on the story, but I might not upload anything until I return next weekend.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter was written to:
> 
> 'Missile' by Dorothy
> 
> and
> 
> '11 Blocks' by Wrabel


	15. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Costia.
> 
> Lexa worries over Clarke.
> 
> Anya is not amused.
> 
> No Ontari this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Fifteen **

 

 

Costia grips the wooden rail of the veranda until the wood is creaking under her fingers. At the sound of the piercing howl from the training grounds and the sudden fluctuation of Skai Omega in the air, Lexa had leapt from the railing without a word – or a glance back. The corners of Costia’s lips pull into a tense line.

 

The Trishana wolf can do nothing but watch as Heda lands expertly and tears across the dirt field to the source of the disruption.

 

Costia knows this Skai Omega has been claimed by the Alpha - by _Lexa_ – and that is where the problem truly lies. It's a problem - no it is a joken _mockery_  - because Costia can still feel the light brush of Lexa's fingertips over her knuckles and the soft press of the Alpha's lips against her temple. She feels it all acutely even now when the touches are nothing more than a ghost of a memory - nothing more than brief respites in the middle of the night when her thoughts rage loudest for what she has lost and misses dearly. Even after all this time her wolf still considers the beautiful Alpha to be hers - even though they both technically belong to another. 

 

The Skai Omega from the stars, said to have been sent by the very Natshana Keryon. Costia watches as Clarke’s teeth viciously tear into one of her Beta guards – Prisa kom Natshana – what a joke. 

The mark on Costia’s neck begins to prickle and burn subtly. She knows her _mate_  is no doubt worried due to the commotion and must be searching for her. The Trishana Omega sighs as once again she is ripped away from her Trikru home. With a disgruntled groan, Costia leaves the veranda – uninterested in the Skai Omega making herself look a rapid beast of a fool. _That_ Omega is a complete embarrassment to their Heda, and as a wolf.

 

* * *

 

Lexa begins to pant slightly as she exits the stairwell. She glances down to observe the motionless star in her arms. Clarke is a star in corporeal form, fallen to the ground – startling in her fire and life. She had fallen and Lexa had caught her in all her stubborn, beautiful glory. A chilled snarl rips through her as the thought of losing Clarke due to her guard’s stupidity becomes a very real possibility.

She wants to be sick. _Beja, Klark_ , her panicked heart screams inside her. A rush of adrenaline pulses through her as she kicks open the gate to the elevator. She orders the guards to begin the ascent. These are the longest minutes of her life.

 

Once clear of the overhead gate, the Alpha speeds past every tower occupant posted in her way as she carries Clarke carefully in her arms. The Omega had stopped moving half way up to their destination and the Alpha could not stop a hoarse breath of the blonde’s name from escaping her lips. She has adjusted Clarke in her hold but the blonde does not respond. Clarke remains unmoving as if in a deep sleep, and Lexa’s fears erupts like a summer storm within her. She barks at her guard – anyone who was present – to send for a healer immediately as she strides into the throne room and straight into her chambers. 

Lexa lowers Clarke out as gently as possible onto her bed. Her eyes roam over the ragged looking blonde. Clarke’s scent, which had once been so prominent in the field, is muted and so fragile. The Alpha’s body betrays her as her wolf releases a terrifying, hollow sound that bounce off her walls.

The weight of a hand on her shoulder sends the Alpha spiraling as she twists about. Her arm lashes out and sends a solid form crumbling to the floor with a snap. She snarls as another body moves to grasp at her. Conflicting Beta scents threaten to choke her. She can feel her throat constrict and the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her Alpha spikes in retaliation and floods the room.

A hushed whimper passes through her ears. Lexa spins back to Clarke when she hears it again and a limp whine drifts over from the bed. The Alpha’s scent ebbs from its intensity. In a breath she crosses the distance. Lexa feels herself shaking as she all but sprints to Clarke’s side. She sniffs at the blonde.

 

“Klark?”

 

Lexa takes the blonde’s pale hands into her own. The Omega’s pulse races like that of a small frightened rabbit trapped in a hunter’s snare. Beads of sweat cling to her forehead and roll down the blonde’s temple. The Alpha stays glued to the blonde’s bedside until the scent of medicinal herbs belonging to a healer approaches the bed cautiously.

 

“Heda…”

 

Lexa has not spared the healer a glance since he entered the room but gives a brief nod in the man's direction to step forward.

 

“Heal her. Now!” The unrepressed urgency in her voice causes the Beta healer to flinch back under the pressure, but he nods and begins his assessment. Clarke does not stir as Lexa cleans Ryder's blood from the blonde's chin and neck. The Omega's breathing has slowed to a sluggish rhythm and she offers no sign of regaining consciousness.

The Alpha almost gags on her garbled whimpers as she dumps the bloodied rag onto the floor.  _Wake up, Klark. Wake up,_ her head and heart cry out in unison. 

 

Clarke remains still. Her wolf is deathly silent. Her scent is gone.

  

* * *

 

Anya barrels through the infirmary wing of the tower, sending passing gonas sprawling on their asses as her clipped stride forces all to leap aside. Her wolf is nearly seething when she finally rounds on Ryder while Nyko is patching up Clarke’s handiwork. She stops a foot away from them, her face a mask of concealed fury.

 

“Chon dula dison (Who did this)?” The General asks as if she does not know the answer for Ryder's wounds.

 

Nyko has frozen at Ryder's side since her appearance. The air in the entire floor has turned tense as if one abrupt motion could spark the flame that could sear them all.

 

“Klark.” Lincoln’s cracked response does nothing to gain her sympathy or her wolf’s mercy. She hopes the girl's name tastes like ash in his mouth.

 

“Who gave you the right to take such liberties? You both were given your orders; you were supposed to run her through _basic_ routines. Exhaust her _body_ , deplete the wolf’s energy. I did _NOT_ give you approval to push her into shifting – _not once!_ What have you to say for your blatant indiscretion?”

 

When the gonas remain silent, Anya lets her wolf free.

 

The General grasps the fabric of Ryder’s shirt in her clenched fists, yanks the man seamlessly from the medical cot and slams the Beta forcefully into the stone wall behind them. She can smell the copper tang of blood from Clarke’s bite as his newly treated wound stretches open and runs red despite Nyko’s expert stitching. The General doesn’t care. In this moment, she can’t. Her underlings have disobeyed her which means they have disobeyed Heda. That cannot be allowed to stand.

 

" _Min OP!"_

 

“T-tried to _help_.” The warbled sounds of the injured gona's voice are disrupted by his choking gasps for air. Ryder’s pained eyes meet her own cautiously before sharply dropping to observe the floor. “She asked what we could do—shift f-faster.”

 

Anya glances at Lincoln from the corner of her narrowed eyes – Lincoln who cannot raise his head in Ryder’s defense or his own. He cannot defend what his brother gona has done and is carrying his own guilt for failing to stop it. _As he should._ Anya knows what happened and who instigated this fiasco – she has heard the stories from every _joken_ guard and servant running through the tower and it’s barely been two candle marks. Hell, she even heard this story from _Azgeda_ gonas before her own!

 

The General all but roars in the Ryder’s face, throwing him violently to the ground. “Do you disregard life so easily – your fight could have been over! Klark’s as well! It is fortunate for you that she still breathes.  _Branwada Skrish!_ ”

 

Anya’s anger in this is iron red and her eyes scream for either Beta to dare challenge her. They can not meet her eyes. They know they will suffer more later for their failure today.

 

“You both will be punished by the fists of your brothers and sisters under the guard whom you have disrespected. You are awarded for your disobedience with the lashings you have so eagerly earned. The spirit is merciful on you, as I am dealing out your punishment as Heda’s hand.”

  

* * *

   

It has been three days.

 

Three long, agonizingly slow days have traversed the earth.

 

Lexa has felt every second. 

 

The wait is ripping her apart. Her Alpha's sincere fear for the blonde is an acute ache spidering out from inside her chest and intensifying with each day Clarke remains lost to her. The blonde is somewhat responsive, but only due to her fever dreams. She thrashes about at times and cries out as if she is being disemboweled. It is a horrible thing to witness.

 

Lexa does not leave her side.

 

Lexa reaches for a damp clothe to smooth gently over the Omega’s now untainted cheek and above her creased brow; she worries deeply for the fever that will not break. Clarke's face is etched with brief flickers of pain once again as her chest rises and falls shakily. The blonde whimpers softly and twitches away from the touch. The pulsing throb at the back of Lexa’s skull is returning.

 

“Why will she not wake?” She tiredly croaks out.

 

Nyko is patient. His Beta is calming. “Her spirit has been damaged, Heda. It will take time.”

 

Her cracked lips part and her lower lip trembles against her will. “How long, Naikou? She went through something similar to this after Tondisi. She awoke within hours.”

 

“Onya mentioned that was a much lighter episode. With her forced transition, I am uncertain, Heda. I have done all that I can; only the Moon spirit can help her now.”

 

Lexa takes in a shaky breath, and nods. She attempts to consolidate her emotions. _Calm_ , her heart sagely beats, _breathe._

 

_It takes as long as it takes._

 

The spirit has graced her with the most blessed of gifts: a potential true mate, a partner, an equal. Heda hisses in her ear that Clarke is _not_ her equal – no one is Heda’s equal. _Clarke may be,_ Lexa’s heart speeds under her ribs. It drums faster and faster against her skin. 

If she officially became Clarke’s Alpha she would no longer be just Lexa - or Heda. She would be responsible for protecting more than just her own heart – she would have Clarke’s nestled in her chest as well. A heart of a star to protect and keep safe, and to make happy. Her actions toward Clarke since the Chase pull at her tongue to offer an apology to this unconscious girl. Heda twists her swollen tongue until the syllables are squashed back into her throat.

 

 _Heda apologizes to no one,_ her head snarls.

 

Lexa wants to scream. She can not stand to be Heda now. This is Clarke. The girl she finds herself gravitating towards without a second thought. The girl who constantly flits into the front of her mind until it is completely crowded with the blonde’s voice, her smile, her eyes, cloaked in her very scent. Clarke drives her mad - Clarke makes her feel neurotic in the best of ways.

 

Clarke makes her feel.

 

That is Heda’s paranoid worry and her unspoken threat. Clarke makes Heda _feel._

Anya had been right when she spoke of Lexa’s heart hardening itself to the world and those around her. She had to for her own survival, and to survive as Heda to her people. It was required and so it was done. _Spicha. You know when it began,_  her heart howls out.Lexa grits her teeth at the traitorous organ. She does not wish to remember this now.

 

_Costia._

Memories of her youth flit under her eyelids. They seem like a lifetime ago when Lexa had been someone kinder – someone unburdened. That version of Lexa is buried so deeply under the cold, unattached leader it is a sheer miracle Clarke has been able to uncover Leksa; bring her to the surface against even Heda’s impeccable control.

Clarke sparks something inside the Alpha. The twinge of a flame dwarfs even her past warmth for Costia, and that scares her. It is a relief as much as it feels a betrayal to her first love. A love _she_ lost. A love even Heda failed to protect.

Costia had allowed Lexa to feel like a seventeen-year-old girl in love – the playful Omega had been her sanctuary in a time of great struggle and pain in Lexa’s adolescent life. Costia had loved Lexa and the Alpha, but Costia never fully accepted _Heda_ ; or rather, the responsibilities that befell Heda and required her iron judgement. Costia had once called her a grim immovable stone. No matter how hard she tried, the Omega could not budge Heda’s mind on acts that resulted in blood and the stark show of violence. Costia could not love Heda Leksa.  _I_ _wonder if anyone ever can,_ her heart taps at her Alpha.

 

Lexa traces her eyes over Clarke’s healing features - at least her healing abilities have not waned. The blonde's breathing has evened; she seems to be in a place of contentment for the moment.

As dangerous as Lexa’s Alpha could be – Heda Leksa was undoubtedly more. Costia had been right to fear her. Heda was cruel, and merciless when the time called for it. Heda would not bat an eye at the punishment dealt in beheading or in the sickening crack of a whip as it wrenched from a mutilated back. These acts were necessary. These acts were laws. These laws were who Heda had to be in order to keep her clan’s subservience in line.

After all, no one would follow a weak Alpha, let alone a weak Heda. A weak Heda would lose their spirit and it would pass onto another, more suitable vessel. Lexa had to become something detached - something inhuman. She had to become this unforgiving commanding spirit even as she warred with it – especially when it came to her heart.

 

Her fingers push a damp strand of blonde from Clarke’s heated flesh and carefully stroke her cheek with the pad of her thumb. This time the blonde leans into the comforting action - barely, but to Lexa it feels like a small victory.

Clarke’s body is still healing – her wolf is still weak. Her scent is delicate.

 

Could she protect Clarke from what Heda must be - will be, from what Heda might inflict upon her mate in future trials, even in future peace? The honest answer came sharply like bile to the back of her throat.

 

_No._

 

Heda had inadvertently done this to the blonde. Leksa had let it happen. Clarke’s wolf was pushed too far too quickly, and this is the result. _I should have been there the entire time,_ her heart aches with regrets.

 

She slips her palm to cup the Omega’s cheek, sliding against Clarke’s skin gently. Her free hand laces into the spaces of Clarke’s fingers.

 

Her green eyes painstakingly map each yellowing bruise and pinkish healed cut littering the blonde’s face and arms for the thousandth time. Lexa breathes harshly through her nose as her shoulders shudder. She is exhausted. She has slept little and eaten less than that. The stresses of these past days have weakened her and the Alpha inside cannot stop pawing in a state of constant distress at the Omega’s prolonged state.

 

“Beja, Klark. I would not see your light extinguished. Come back to me.” She brings the blonde's knuckles to her lips. "Beja, Klark."

 

Lexa's star is diminishing.

 

The Alpha angrily snarls for whoever is rudely banging against her door to enter or fuck off. The scent of a boorish Beta invades the temporary calm of her chambers. The Alpha growls as Clarke fidgets as if sensing the agitation within the room. 

Heda spins to face the insolent intruder, inhaling sharply as a flash of a blade flies through her peripherals.

* * *

  

Costia slips from Luna’s chambers, stopping as Luna’s tanned arm reaches for her waist and pulls the Trishana girl in for a soft press of lips. The two Omegas nuzzle into one another until Costia pulls back from Luna’s arms and places a kiss on the corner of the Floukru wolf’s mouth. Luna nods and playfully pushes at the other Omega’s behind to get her moving. Costia lets out a small giggle at Luna’s antics but leaves on silent feet down the hall.

Luna leans casually against the frame of her door still looking down the corridor Costia had disappeared from.

 

“You can come out now.” Luna’s voice was not angry or even annoyed in her visitor’s guarded eyes.

 

“You knew I was here.” A gruff voice is forced out through bruised lips.

 

The Floukru wolf nods and turns to face Lincoln who has hobbled out from the shadow of the column and into the light of the hallway. He has been baldy beaten. A deep purple stood out against his tan jawline and his left eye. The bruising was fresh and hadn’t even begun to yellow. His brow and his lip are split open but have already begun to scab over. His shoulders are hunched over and it’s clear a rib or two must be broken from the rasping wheeze of his breathing. The Beta continues to limp over to Luna before he straightens his posture with a slight wince.

 

Lincoln sighs. “What are you doing Luna?” He knows she is aware of his implications.

 

Luna’s brow quirks up in a curious motion, noticing the tense air coming from the Beta guard. The Omega mimics his sigh in a dramatic fashion. “It is just a simple tryst between friends, Lincoln. Nothing more.”

 

“Costia is a mated Omega.” He says as if that fact wasn’t obvious. “Mates do not share the furs of others – not without serious consequences to both parties. I do not want you to get into trouble over a simple tryst, Luna. _Beja,_ see reason.”

 

His graveled voice intones his concern for the Floukru wolf. Luna’s eyes soften.

 

“Costia is a troubled soul, Lincoln. She was not given the same freedoms that most Omegas are allowed.”

 

Lincoln shakes his head and gestures avidly in her direction. He is tired of having this conversation about the former Trikru Omega. Luna always finds the good in others - a trait he respects - but just because someone has good qualities does not mean they don't have their bad. “She _was_ given the same options, Luna – you _know_ this. Costia made her choice, and now she must honor it. She is no longer Trikru – she is Trishana. Dragging you into her troubles is not wise. This cannot end well for either of you if anyone catches word of this – _end it_.” His voice is a hushed whisper but for all the passion laced inside it Lincoln could have been yelling. 

Luna stares down at the floor, properly reprimanded. Her lively eyes are dancing across the tiles in a jerky motion. Lincoln feels a twinge of sympathy for the kind hearted girl only a few years his junior. The Beta sets a steady hand on the Omega’s slumped shoulder and squeezes gently.

 

“I am sorry to demand this of you Luna, but it must be done. Beja, do not let me catch you again.”

 

The Floukru wolf nods imperceptibly and turns swiftly to enter her room once again. When the door closes, the Beta turns to rest his back against the neighboring wall. His arm is almost completely numb; the muslces begins twitching and going into minor spasms. He has not had his injuries seen to by the healers as was part of his punishment. Lincoln grits his teeth and slams his askew shoulder against the stone wall. An audible pop fills the hallway as the gona’s shoulder snaps back into its socket. He breathes harshly through his nose as sweat collects on his brow. Lincoln stands, rotates his arm once, twice. He firmly locks his jaw and does his best to walk unhindered down the corridor to report for his shift.

 

* * *

  

Anya leaves Nyko in less than high spirits. She has heard his reports on the blonde and her unchanged state. Lexa had refused to leave her room for any reason, even to eat. The Alpha’s scent pulsed out in waves, coating the floors below with her own anxiety and helpless anger. Guards, delegates, and servants alike were steadily beginning to feel the effects. The General will get through to her seken even if she has to drag her by the tail to do it.

The first thing Anya notices as she rounds the hall to Lexa’s chamber is a strong metallic scent and the suffocating cloud of Lexa’s Alpha. The amount of it is enough to make her bite back the impulse to gag. Where are Heda’s guards?

 

Her stomach drops. Her wolf is on alert and almost pleading for her fears to be unconfirmed. That it is not Lexa she will find butchered in the Commander’s quarters. Anya’s hand grips tightly around the hilt of her sword and seizes it free from its sheath. The Beta carefully stalks forward. She sends a flit of a prayer to the Moon.  _D_ _o not let me live through another Commander._

 

Her blade catches the light from a fallen torch as the coppery scent of blood invades her nose. Another step and the red pool greets her. She follows the trial to its source. The walls are awash with the evidence of what transpired here.

 

A brutal killing.

 

Savage and unmerciful.

 

Definitely wolf. The evidence of a powerful animal viciously tearing into its victim and flinging the carcass back and forth, spraying the corridor in a mist of red clings to the stone. A still form is crumpled a few feet from Heda’s door. The Beta almost whines. The corridor is too flooded with offensive Beta and Alpha scents to identify which is laying in a mangled heap before her.

Anya steps over remnants of entrails as she sets her jaw and lowers her sword. Her hand reaches out to turn the body over. Her pupils constrict as the light of another torch, barely lit as the embers struggle to keep its dying flame alive, illuminate the mutilated corpse.

 

It’s the General of the Boudalan army. A delegate that arrived with his leader for the Summit.

 

Anya releases a harsh sigh in relief. She had not known she was holding her breath until that moment. Her pulse races and the unease in her stomach has yet to quell.

 

The lump of flesh is not Lexa.

 

Lexa is not the one torn to pieces in this hallway.

 

_Breathe._

The Beta moves from the dead Boudalan wolf and over to Heda's door. She tentatively raps her knuckles against it. Even if the body was not Lexa’s that does not mean the Alpha is not injured. She waits.

 

No answer comes.

 

Anya knocks harder. Still nothing. The Beta takes a deep breath and decisively takes the handle and quickly pushes the door open. Her nose is immediately met with the dregs of the Boudalan General and the overwhelming stink of 'pissed off' Alpha. Before Anya can take another step, the Beta is flung harshly to the floor. Her sword falls to the ground in a sharp clatter. Anya pushes up onto her haunches - ready to side swipe her attacker and freezes. 

Lexa is ominously standing before her drenched in partially dried blood and gore. It starts at her chin and spreads like a waterfall down her front. The Alpha’s eyes are impossibly black as they watch Anya with a deadly intensity. Anya immediately commands her body to shift before her Alpha and her honey-blonde wolf rolls over onto her back, her tail tucked close to her body. The Beta whines for Lexa to acknowledge her submission. It takes a few seconds but the action seems to work as Lexa stalks forward. The brunette leans down to grasp Anya’s furred neck with her bloodied hand. The Beta whines louder when she feels the subtle amount of pressure around her windpipe. Her Beta pheromones are as submissive as her stance.

 

The Alpha growls lowly and squeezes her throat one last time before releasing her and disappearing from sight. Anya stands up at full height onto her paws and spies Lexa carefully crawling over onto the furs of her bed. The Alpha lowers her head to the unconscious Omega’s stomach and a steady rumble fills the room.

Anya watches through her wolf’s eyes as the Alpha lightly traces her fingers up and down Clarke’s arm. Lexa’s scent settles and the Alpha closes her eyes.

The honey-blonde wolf whimpers curiously and steps forward. Lexa’s hardened eyes snap open and narrow in on Anya. The low rumble from Lexa’s chest rises into a dull menacing thunder. The Beta wolf stops where she stands. Her wolf understands the unspoken warning. She is allowed to be in this room but will not be given the liberty move any farther.

 

Anya slowly retreats from the Commander’s chamber and effortlessly shifts back in the empty corridor. She runs a hand jerkily through her tangled hair and braids and growls.

 

_Shit._

Lexa is utterly under her wolf’s influence right now. No doubt brought forward by Clarke’s injuries and the state of the blonde's wolf. Anya runs through her options to form her next strategy to handle all of this. She goes over the facts. The General was dressed in his clan’s royal armor which is customary when leaders issue challenges to one another. His braids are those of the Commander's knot and circlet. The intent in that detail is apparent. His daggers were drawn, and bloody. Lexa’s wolf responded to a perceived threat and soaked the hallway in an offensive Alpha musk. The Boudalan General is dead. Heda has eliminated him.

Anya has already formed a theory. The Boudalan General must have approached the Alpha in hopes that she would be caught off guard so that his strikes would kill her swiftly - or at least injure Heda enough to the point she was forced to yield her claim.

 

The fool.

 

Anya growls softly.

This was the risk of the challenge. There was the unspoken rule at the Summit that Heda was only to be defeated in single combat in these challenges - _not_ killed. However, if the Alpha were to be struck down – all the better for those plotting against her. Plus, Heda's death could be played off as a deadly result of the competition. Anya had suspected the General or his Boudalan leader to be one of the competitors to make the first move. Azgeda would have been too obvious, and she has had her scouts watching the Ice clan's every move since their arrival. Yet some of them seem to have slipped through the cracks.

 _Was the Omega simply a front for the outcome of Lexa's death?_   Most of the clans are vying for the chance for an Omega claim, too caught up in the prize that they do not wish to see anything beyond. In any case, at least the Boudalan clan is eliminated. Only ten more clans to go, should they all decide to compete. Anya rolls her eyes at the pessimistic thought.

 

The General briskly walks down the hallway, barking for nearby guards. She informs them to send specifically for Nyko alone and have him go to Heda's door to await her arrival. He will need to look over the Boudalan man’s wounds as well as Lexa’s. They will need to prove the man was defeated by Lexa and that her wounds match the General’s weapons. This should not be an issue as the entire corridor is laden with the Alpha’s pheromones.

She continues her journey to the throne room, grabbing the first attendant she sees to relieve them of their tunic and trousers. She needs to report this development to Titus at once and she'll be damned if she is going to do that naked.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad about leaving you guys hanging on the fourth. After the festivities I crashed hence no late night update.
> 
> Hope this makes up for it a little.
> 
> Written to:
> 
> "Spirit Cold' by Tall Heights


	16. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolf dreams.
> 
> Anya and Titus.
> 
> Lexa and Clarke.
> 
> That's a wrap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Sixteen **

  

_[Three days ago]_

 

 

Clarke is screaming.

 

Screeching really – an ear-splitting plaintive sound.

 

She is crying out into a vast darkness. It’s all she can see. An endless field of dead grasses and cracked earth with dark skies as far as her eyes can see. Why is everything so grey – so lifeless? It feels stale and empty, and so damn cold. There is no sense of time. No day and no night. Nothing.

 

A saddened land of tears beating in time with her heart.

 

How can this be? Where is Lexa? She was holding onto the Alpha just a moment ago. _Why isn't she here? Where am I?_

 

_"Lexa!"_

 

Clarke's cries echo back distorted and achingly melancholy; howling out in a terrifying melody. Goosebumps jar along her skin almost continuously, and her eyes leak her panic down her face. Clarke hurriedly covers her ears and grips her throbbing head to keep it from exploding. 

The back of her skull is pounding terribly. The pain is immense.

 

She wants to yell at herself to stop—stop making those terrifying noises; stop these haunting sounds from escaping her wolf through her own cracked lips. It feels as if a monumental chasm has opened inside her, exposing her at her most vulnerable. It carves the rest of her out. 

Her lungs are rupturing with her anguish and the agony of her latent wolf. They both can feel the white hot heat searing through her bones and flooding into her bloodstream like a potent acid. She can hear its destruction roaring in her ears. Her skin vibrates. It feels like such a fragile composition that a mere breeze could shatter her – bones and all – to be strewn about forever and lost into the emptiness of this desolate place.

 

Despite her desires, her piercing screams continue.

 

Warmth is dripping from her ears and over the grooves of her fingers digging into the skin of her scalp.

 

Lamenting howls. Her chin is wet with her tears as her jaw aches with the movements of her lips as they form the shapes of her want.

 

“Just.

 

_STOP.”_

Clarke’s mouth hangs open in a silent scream. Nothing comes from her; everything is corked in her throat, choking her.

 

In the stillness, the silence is almost as deafening. She tries not to make any sound. 

 

In the stillness, her betraying whimpers ring out like a canon blast. 

A coldness creeps over her eyes and into her mouth to scuttle down her throat and nest in her stomach. The dark is hollow and all encompassing. It spreads like a frost over wildflowers – freezing her limbs until her lips take on a crippling blue. A brief flash of brilliant white flickers in the distance – its presence gone unnoticed until now. The sight is like a summoning beacon calling out to her – she can’t look away. With a sudden gust of wind, the figure fades like a painter’s stroke across canvas, bleeding into the air until it drifts into a wisp of nothing.

 

When the light disappears so does her Omega, leaving Clarke feeling so much...less.

 

Like an eraser sweeping down a chalkboard, a blackness wipes clean the vision from her open eyes. A dark film lays thick over her dimming corneas and irises. Her senses dull and cut her off from her wolf. She’s cast headlong into a void and left feeling utterly alone. It engulfs her.

Clarke cries out. She cries out for the white wolf of her Omega. Her lungs hitch as only a choked crack comes from her. The sound is enough to topple her to the dirt floor of this place. She rolls onto her back feeling the jagged lumps of stones digging into her flesh. She doesn't care.

It feels as if a giant fist is squeezing her chest from within her ribcage. Breathing does not come easily.

 

“Please.” She croaks out.

 

Tears begin seeping down her cheeks as her hands raise to reach out above her – clawing for something she can’t see but desperately needs. A visceral want.

 

“Please don’t go – don’t leave me alone.”

 

Clarke holds out her arms until they ache. They fall like lead weights to the ground with a blunted thud. Her arms should be throbbing from the impact. She feels nothing but a fearful numbness.

 

She can’t stop crying.

 

Clarke closes her eyes.

 

She wants to be quit of this place.

 

She lies there for hours, days, or so it seems. Does it matter?

 

Her tears are dry against her skin.

 

She breathes in a sense of lethargy. The faint sound of voices – muffled and far away – filter in behind her eyelids. She squeezes them tighter, not trusting what her ears are conveying to her. She feels the ghost of a touch across her brow line and dip across her collarbone. Soft and reverent. It’s nothing more than a tickling sensation but it’s not unpleasant. Clarke finds herself wanting more.

 

She refuses to open her eyes again just to be greeted with nothing. The disappointment would be most unkind.

 

“Please.” Clarke almost sobs. She hates this twisted presentation of herself.

 

Her hands clamp over her mouth and she bites down onto a finger to keep herself from calling out to a familiar voice. She knows there is no one waiting.

 

She startles and screams at a solid nudge to her shoulder. Clarke jerks herself upright and pauses. Something real is here – it bumped into her. Her eyes flit over the barren land as her head twists and spins in effort to see whatever is here. She can hear a soft panting and the heat of another body close to her own. She wants to cry again. Without the wolf she can’t hear as sharply, she can’t identify the smell of this presence beside her, and she can’t _see_ it either.

 

She is lost.

 

Another bump comes to her shoulder, harder this time. Clarke pulls away from the source and pushes herself in an awkward crawl a few feet in the opposite direction. The sting of teeth against her skin and the hot breath of an animal clamping its jaws around her calf sends her into a state of terror. Feeling the prey of this situation, she thrashes her limbs out and kicks at the creature to release herself. She stands in haste and sets off in a sprint to nowhere. The wounds on her leg are shallow – not enough to cause lasting damage. Good. 

Clarke almost tumbles to the ground as the solid muscle of a shoulder abruptly rams into her side. _How?_ Clarke shakes off the hit. She takes off once again. The feel of the dirt beneath her feet changes texture. The ground becomes smooth like metal – it feels as if she’s on the Ark again as the cool touch under foot is natural. She swerves to and fro on it.

 

Her feet cover a few yards in an instant. She doesn’t stray from the hard ground even as it twists and tapers into a one passenger pathway. Blurred points of light begin to appear in clusters all around her. Clarke blinks her eyes repeatedly as the small hazy pins of white become clearer. Her focus is drawn to a glowing grouping. She knows those lights. Clarke has seen their position every day of her life. She almost stops in shock when she realizes the nature of her surroundings – she is back in space.

 

She’s _back._

 

She is running through stars about her.

 

_Her stars._

 

The blonde observes the constellation she would habitually see from her window of the Ark. She heads towards her left off the feel of the path in the vain hope the Ark may be part of this nightmare. She just wants to see it one more time. The resounding crack of a menacing snarl booms at her left – loud enough to get through to her and make her feet suddenly veer right – and right back onto the path. She keeps stumbling every other stride and she’s gasping with the exertion of this run. A slight nip to her heels makes her pick up a faster pace and sharply turn left as a solid knock into her hip jars her forward. Her bones ache. 

Just as Clarke is about to give up and allow whatever predator is toying with her to end it, the steel body of the creature leaps in front of her; it sends her colliding into its massive chest before summersaulting over it and landing onto the ground in a deafening heap.

 

Clarke remains face down on the ground, harshly panting in and out through her mouth. This floor feels different. Her fingers curl into blades of soft grass – the smooth path has ended. Sweat is rolling down her temples and covering her body in a sticky, humid slick. Oddly her limbs seem to have thawed into spasming jelly.

 

Her lips no longer feel blue.

 

The frost in her chest remains.

 

Her breath stutters as the rough lap of a tongue courses over her forehead.

 

She breathes in deeply, both hands clenched into fists beside her head.

 

Clarke opens her eyes.

 

She looks upwards and sees the recognizable form of a muzzle. It is blurred and looks more like an image smudged through the middle, and feathered out at the edges. The creature is large and canine-like. A pale grey wolf.

 

Clarke bolts upwards but stops as the wolf growls. A static fills the air.

 

One by one, more shapes similar to the first appear behind and beside the wolf. The colors vary as their numbers grow, and they are all snarling, nipping and pushing at each other. Clarke swallows down her first instinct to run and plants her sluggishly bleeding heels into the grass. The blonde clenches her fists until her nails dig into her palms, trying to ground herself.

 

The pale wolf stalks forward.

 

Clarke releases all of the pressure built up in her chest and lets out a vicious roar – baring the white of her teeth to this wolf. The grey wolf halts his approach. Her snarls are thundering and reverberate off of the unseen walls of this place. The tide swirling about in her ribs and crashing out through her teeth remains constant.

 

She will endure this grotesque nightmare no longer.

 

The wolves cease the feeding of their growls, the rumble of their bellies still and all is quiet throughout the shifting pack. 

A ripple stirs in the colors of the pack as they part wolf by wolf to allow a bright white shape to advance. As the blinding light recedes, Clarke recognizes the form of a pure white wolf – _her_ wolf. Sapphire marbles as bright as the sun piercing over the horizon stare pointedly into her own. Clarke lurches forward unafraid, falling onto her knees in a crouch before her Omega. The white wolf pads closer to Clarke and stops inches away from the blonde’s face. Ears press flat against its head and deadly canines reveal under pulled lips. A challenge.

 

Their eyes lock as they face off. The field visibly shudders. The tremors begin cracking the land into jagged pieces. Great fissures protrude from the ground, obstructing quadrants of the pack from view. Other crevices open up and swallow groupings of formless wolves in one gulp.

Clarke does not look away from the shining light of the Omega before her. She can feel that this primal wolf is her companion, a part of herself that she should know well and embrace. She can feel the animal – the instinct. The two are frozen in place as they stare each other down – neither willing to submit. Clarke hardens her gaze and charges the Omega, knocking the wolf on its back before her. She bares her teeth and slaps her hand against the ground in an abrupt strike as she hovers over her own wolf.

 

The white wolf whimpers and its neck elongates. This must be what Lexa saw of her – it is strange to view herself this way, like an Alpha. As Clarke moves to stand, the white mass of her wolf collects into the air in a shimmering of pearlescent light as the golden sun begins to rise. Just as the peak of the sun’s rays glide over the turmoil of land, the glimmering essence of her wolf surges into Clarke, knocking her onto her back. Her body convulses. 

Everything before her eyes is immediately disoriented and thrown in and out of focus. Colors blur and then sharpen; they glow so brightly and then return to a dulled luster. Her sight becomes clear and precise, and her sense of smell illuminates the scents of land and wolf from miles away.

 

As Clarke lies there adjusting to her wolf merging into her system, the light grey wolf who first herded her into this position comes into view. The large wolf looks on solemnly as her vision begins to wane again. It feels different this time. Blue eyes flicker their failing concentration onto this pale wolf. A male older than Clarke. Her nose flares to take in his scent. The wolf raises his snout and howls long and melodic into the blazing sunrise.

Clarke gnashes her teeth together as the scent and sound of the pale wolf pulse in her veins. Her eyes tear up in a great want for this wolf’s other form. She would recognize him anywhere, and she is terrified and delighted to find him here in this place. Clarke has never seen this side of him before – the wolf. Her father’s faded blue-grey eyes gaze back at her as the wolf’s cry tapers. The warmth in his observation of her is so familiar that it causes a deep seated ache in her chest. A stab of longing and homesickness she hasn’t felt since she first landed on Earth stings like the attack of a wasp. A transposed suffering from her past.

 

_"Why do you run Clarke?"_

 

“Dad!” Clarke desperately calls out. The strength of her call hammers in thundering waves through her blood – she focuses all of her desire in this one massive burst of need.

 

She feels a pleasing prickling sensation wash over her – it’s as if the nerves endings on her limbs are waking up from a dead sleep. Pins and needles cause her skin to shiver fluidly. Her bones and muscles suspend and constrict severely in a tight clench as they morph into a new form before the pressure releases in a wide single breath. Fur erupts over her new flesh in a surge along her spine and belly until it branches out covering her entirely in pure white. She feels the growth as it glides easily over her skull and down her narrow snout. It passes over her as easily as water rinsing soap from her hair and skin.

 

She is Omega.

 

She is wolf.

 

The grey wolf of her father turns from her as he is engulfed by the pack. Her Omega bleeds into the spaces behind her eyes as she snarls at the rabble blanketing her father to part ways. She leaps for him. Her pure white form shoves fervently and snaps through clumped bodies and jammed wolves stacked one atop the other in a twisted heap. Just as she is about to be buried under the weight of numerous clamoring wolves fighting to get out of this sea, a heart wrenching bellow jolts the field. At first Clarke does not pay it any mind, her only concern is for the pale grey wolf drifting further and further away in the tide of browns and blacks leaping and running over each other.

 

_"Run, kiddo."_

 

Another roar slices through the masses again, this time stilling the pack. Clarke sinks lower into the horde and her wolf howls at the fading glimpse of her father’s fur. The sky quickly becomes blotted out by the bodies climbing on top of hers.

 

A spike of familiar Alpha permeates the air as she completely loses sight of the sun and the grey wolf. Her heart is beating faster than ever before.

 

Sinking and scraping for air.

 

Sinking and thrashing under a weight too great.

 

Sinking and sinking.

 

Until there is no more sky.

 

No more land.

 

No more sun.

 

Nothing but the scent -

 

The scent of Alpha reaching out to her. 

 

* * *

 

_[Present.]_

 

Anya flings the doors of the throne room open as she enters with a rush of energy. She spies Titus overlooking the city below. Her entrance has the Beta advisor spinning around in a mild surprise. As he lays eyes on the Trikru General, his lips purse into a disapproving line. Strutting from the balcony, he comes to stand beside Heda’s throne.

 

“General, this is highly inappropriate.” The elder Beta raises a judging brow in her direction, before his eyes flit over her state of dress. Anya irritably huffs and attempts not to roll her eyes at the Fleimkepa.

 

“We have more pressing matters than my lack of clothing.” She can see the counter response bubbling up in his pinched face. “Heda has slain the Boudalan General in the Commander’s corridor. I have dispatched Naikou to oversee the body. He will need to look over Heda.”

 

Titus’ eyes widen before the air steadily falls from his chest. “I see. We will await the healer’s report before announcing it to the clans.” Anya bites her tongue as to not bark at his forwardness to step into Heda’s shoes. Her wolf tenses at his familiarity of taking the role of leader so easily. _He does not command the Kongeda_ , her wolf snarls. Heda is too lenient with his limits of his control. Titus’ voice rolls on in a muffled drawl that Anya filters through her ears. “I will go speak with Heda—”

 

“—That is not possible, Fleimkepa.” Titus whips his head around to glare at the Trikru General. “Heda has delved into her Alpha. Her spirit has yet to let go of her wolf; she is dangerous to everyone until it passes. To attempt speaking with her now would not be wise.”

 

“Very well.” The Fleimkepa’s voice sounds forced. Anya can barely hear him gritting his teeth. “Perhaps it’s best that Heda remains in her quarters until her senses are…regained.”

 

Anya can hear the scrutiny in his tone and her wolf flattens its ears. “I suspect the General from Boudalan hoped to surprise Heda by choosing to stage his attack when he suspected she was at her weakest.”

 

Titus studies Anya’s words and her stance. His eyes are narrowed as if he is trying to see into her wolf’s eye. “The Skai Omega,” His words are slow and deliberate. “She still recovers in the Commander’s chambers.”

 

Anya keeps her face wiped clean of her thoughts on the Fleimkepa’s statement. She will not give him information to use as leverage unless Lexa commands it. Titus is a clever wolf and a meddler – always has been, especially when it involves the spirits. _He meddles too freely,_ her wolf growls.

Anya watches as the man observes her. Expectant. They don’t have time for this posturing _skrish._ She lowers her chin stiffly and glares at Titus as he nods satisfactorily to himself. He folds his arms behind his back and smiles as if he already knew this information. The Fleimkepa hums as he descends the steps from the Commander’s throne. Anya wants to cringe when he does this prolonged show of his superior wisdom. She has never desired his retirement more than in this moment. 

Titus stops at the last step of the stair and raises his chin. “Heda’s Alpha was protecting the Omega girl. Heda has every right to defend what she has claimed in any fashion she deems fit. Were either of them injured terribly?” He throws in that last bit as if it is a second thought, though he seems genuinely curious for the General’s answer.

 

Anya knows there is more to this question than concern but provides Titus a tight lipped shake of her head. “Only Heda was injured—a few superficial cuts that will be healed by the next setting sun.”

 

Titus’ lips curls up at the edges. “Heda is strong.”

 

Anya clenches her jaws as she recalls the feral Alpha baring its teeth in Lexa’s eyes. Yes, Lexa _is_ strong, but strength is nothing without control. The Beta is deeply concerned for her seken’s mind. Lexa has not fallen into her wolf since she was barely older than a pup under Anya’s teaching—still learning the limits of her Alpha. The General watches Titus under guarded eyes. She keeps her hands relaxed and unclenched as she slants herself towards the doorway behind her. Her patience has waned. It struggles against her like a fish wriggling off the end of a hunter’s net.

 

“I am returning to Leksa’s quarters. I will gain Naikou entrance but the rest is up to the Alpha and time is not on our side.”

 

Anya does not wait for the elder Beta’s response. She strides from his presence and picks up her pace once clearing the throne room as her mind races.

 

Heda will be difficult.

 

The Alpha will be more than difficult.

 

Anya hopes enough of Lexa is still aware to be reasoned with. The General does not relish the thought of fighting her seken back into lucidity again. She may not have the strength to do so this time, especially given the circumstances.

 

* * *

  

_[Two hours later.]_

  

“Alpha!” Clarke rasps out.

 

The blonde emerges from the blackness wide eyed and twisting in soft furs. Warm light chases the darkness away before her startled eyes. The Omega’s body feels energized exponentially and her wolf is strongly present as it cries its awakening at the front of her mind. Clarke can feel her Omega seeping into her, melding into her own senses until they spike acutely before settling like ripples on a watery surface. She feels oddly…amazing - better than she imagines she should be feeling. Her wolf feels only – Rejuvenation. Her hands clench in the bedding, testing the waters of her new, more sensitive sense of touch. It's glorious. The sound of her wolf’s victorious howl rings out in her ears. 

She reevaluates her body and surroundings. Her throat is burning as she sucks in the first substantial amount of oxygen into her lungs in days. The air is heavy but smells clean and saturated with Alpha and her own sweeter scent. Her Omega croons as the spice of the Alpha sends a small shock down her spine until it fades down her thighs. She curls her toes. Her legs are pinned to the mattress by a warm weight. The numb coldness that had taken root inside her has ebbed.

 

Clarke looks down her torso.

 

 Just like their first encounter after her botch of a heat, Lexa is once again pressed against her – chin propped up on her stomach, brunette waves falling on either side of her waist, legs tangled with her own, and piercing pools of forest staring up at her. Instead of finding herself covered by the Alpha restricting, Lexa’s weight acts as a balm. Gods, have Lexa’s eyes always been this vibrant? Her eyes soak in the Alpha's face.

The Omega in Clarke preens under the Alpha’s unwavering attention and the blonde reaches a hand out to push a lock of hair behind the Alpha’s ear. This time her hand is unwavering. This time she trails her fingertips down the line of Lexa’s jaw until she sees the flaked reddish brown. Her nose flares at the scent – _blood_.

 

A lot of it. 

 

Clarke’s body jerks up into a sitting position to clutch tightly at Lexa’s face. Her eyes fix to the sight of Lexa’s front. It is caked and cracked with red and her chin and jawline are coated in the dried mess. Clarke's eyes ping-pong from the Alpha's face and back to her body as she searches for the gaping source of so much lost life. Her breath catches and she holds it in her chest.

 

“Lexa-Lexa, what?” She stammers out as her hands cupping the Alpha’s face begin to shake. Her voice is still groggy with sleep and cracking as her wolf immediately rushes to alertness.

 

A deep rumble startles the her into stillness. Clarke's wolf leans further into the sound, the comforting cadence lulling her eyes closed. Her lids feel as if they have weights set upon them – impossible to move without a semblance of help. Clarke feels a bubbling flush rippling from her skin. Unexpectedly, her own purr answers Lexa’s call instinctively. Her breathing calms and her anxiety lowers with a relieved exhalation from the Alpha.

The weight from her eyes lifts. Blue opens to greet entranced green once again. Lexa’s fingers comb through her hair and scratch lightly against her scalp. Her purr jumps up in approval. The Alpha smiles. It’s breathtaking.

 

“Klark.” Her name is said with such tenderness. “You are awake.”

 

The Omega leans into Lexa’s touch and the corner of her lips graze the other girl’s palm. She hears the Alpha’s breath waver - her heavier purr stuttering as a result.

 

“I am glad.” Lexa voice has lowered to a husky gravel. “I thought I had lost you.”

 

Clarke watches the girl’s eyes pull tightly around the edges. She deftly turns her face in Lexa’s hand, her own coming up to cover the back of the Alpha’s as she presses a firm kiss to a warm palm. She closes her eyes as she recalls the empty land she had been trapped in - almost lost to if she hadn't found her wolf. Clarke opens her eyes.

 

“You didn’t.” Her lips graze the Alpha’s skin. She scents the salt and copper mixed in with Lexa’s own woodsy scent.

 

Lexa is taking her in with wide brilliant eyes that seem so young. The force of the Alpha’s alleviated purr transfers from Lexa’s hand to Clarke’s lips. It’s a pleasant sensation. The Omega shifts her head from its resting place and grasps the Alpha’s hand solidly in her own. She keeps her voice soft.

 

“What happened to your face, Lexa?”

 

The comforting sound cuts off abruptly. The room feels too silent for the space between them. Lexa runs her tongue over the edge of her lower lip and her eyes widen. As if fully realizing her disheveled state, the Alpha attempts to wrench herself from the furs. Clarke holds Lexa’s hand in an iron grip and crushes it to her chest, forcing the Alpha to pitch forward into Clarke’s arms. 

Lexa’s body goes rigid. Her face is pressed into the crook of the Omega’s neck where Clarke’s pheromones are strong and pure. The Alpha’s eyes flutter to a close as the Omega’s scent washes over her. The bite of Clarke’s voice snaps her into alertness once again.

 

“You will _not_ run from me. Not anymore.” The growl that punctuations Clarke’s words sends a tremor through the Alpha. It's oddly thrilling. Clarke growls louder when she feels the brunette nip at her shoulder.

 

“Tell me. _Now_ , Lexa.” 

 

The Alpha chuckles into the Omega’s clavicle. Being commanded in her own bed is the last thing Lexa expected for today. She wraps her arms snugly around the blonde’s waist. “I was merely going to clean myself up a bit, Klark. I am not exactly presentable.”

 

“And not return after.” Clarke snaps at the Alpha, clearly on to this annoying game of deflection.

 

“I—”

 

“— _Don’t_ deny it, Alpha. You have a pattern of behavior towards me and I would break you of it.”

 

Clarke presses Lexa closer so that her mouth brushes hotly against the shell of the Alpha’s ear. She knows this is a tad manipulative but she’s tired of running after an Alpha who claims to be hers. The Omega's close proximity allows her pheromones to do the rest.

 

“Stop running from me.”

 

A responding shiver races up Lexa’s neck and partially down her shoulders. Clarke smiles when she feels the other girl acquiesce and nod into her. Clarke's unoccupied hand runs up and down Lexa’s tense back, coaxing the well-developed muscles underneath to soften.

 

“Good, good. Now what’s going on? Why are you covered in blood? The _truth_ Lexa – all of it.” It’s Clarke’s turn to shiver as the Alpha places a feather light kiss to the skin of her shoulder.

 

“Alright, Klark.” The Alpha shifts her weight and swiftly brings her knees up to straddle the Omega’s hips. Clarke forgets how to breath.

 

“The Summit ruled on the outcome for our Chase. It was deemed necessary in light of only Trikru taking part in the ritual. My claim of you will remain valid under one condition decided unanimously by the eleven clans, excluding Trikru.” Clarke’s brow twitches and she threads her fingers through the Alpha’s brown locks in an encouraging gesture. It works. The Alpha sighs a bone weary thing. “A representative from each clan has the option to challenge me in single combat at any time of their choosing for the right to my claim - for the right to you.”

 

Clarke’s hand stills and her lips part in a silent gasp. She’s glad Lexa cannot see her face. Her Omega is livid at her future being decided upon by those who have never even been in her presence.

 

“Not all of the clans will enter but I fear a majority of them will try. That is the explanation of my…current state. I was challenged while watching over you.”

 

Clarke can sense more clogging the Alpha’s throat. She swallows and continues weaving her fingers through brunette strands. “Tell me.”

 

“The challenges were meant to begin in a fortnight. It _never_ should have occurred here- especially with you so--I killed the Boudalan General, Klark.” Lexa’s voice is so small. The Alpha’s hands bunch into Clarke’s wrinkled night shirt. “You were suffering. Your body was so still. Klark, your _wolf_ …”

 

The Alpha releases a choked whine against the Omega’s neck, pressing her nose under Clarke’s ear to scent the Omega fully. With a startling clarity, Clarke can sense Lexa’s overwhelming fear for her. She can feel it in the girl’s shuddering breaths across her neck – she can smell it on the Alpha's scent as her nose buries in the Alpha’s hair.

 

“I killed him.” Lexa’s hands tighten – twisting the fabric trapped in her fists harshly. Her voice is cold. It belongs to Heda. “He challenged me after the healer left and I killed him. I ripped the pelt from his hide and split wide his belly. _He_ cannot have you.”

 

The Alpha’s teeth prick into Clarke’s flesh – a ghost of a bite and the resounding growl from the Alpha’s chest has her own vibrating against it. Clarke pushes her nose harder into Lexa’s hair until it bumps into the Alpha’s scalp. Her grip on the girl’s hand is bone crushing.

 

“Lexa, I’m okay.”

 

Lexa’s canines scrape across her shoulder. Her Omega keens at the potent Alpha action. She wants to push her neck into the Alpha’s teeth. Clarke has to bite her lip before speaking again but her voice is still said on a hushed breath.

 

“You’ve won. You’ve won and I’m okay. I’m…”

 

 _Yours,_ Clarke's heart hammers.

 

The word her Omega yearns to say freezes on her lips. She knows it is what the Alpha side of Lexa wants to hear but she can’t do it. She can’t give this part of herself. Not yet – not when Lexa still refuses to acknowledge the bond between them beyond that of an Alpha and Omega. So she placates.

 

“I’m here.”

 

The air is muggy with their mingled scents as they keep hold of one another. They are still firmly pressed together with Lexa framing Clarke’s waist with her thighs. Clarke can smell Lexa’s prominent musk glazing over exposed skin just as her own is probably clinging to the Alpha’s neck and the underside of her jaw. Her Omega enjoys the thought of Lexa wearing her scent. Lexa stays silent.

Clarke nudges the Alpha’s head with her nose trying to offer some comfort after her rejection of sorts.

 

 _It’s not rejection_ , her heart insists. _It’s a not yet._  

 

The Omega purrs as she continues to hold her Alpha - Lexa _is_ her Alpha. She wishes for Lexa to understand. She wishes for Lexa to want her as well and admit it. _Please._

 

“Don’t shut me away again.”

 

The Alpha immediately jerks her head up from the Omega’s shoulder. Her lips are pursed in a hard line. Her expressive eyes are sharp and sad. Clarke knows the Alpha remembers the last time she uttered the same request.

 

“Beja, Lexa.”

 

The Alpha presses her nose against Clarke’s cheek and exhales a heated breath against her. She can feel Lexa’s eyelashes brushing her skin and the pout of her lower lip. Softly, Lexa moves to kiss the underside of Clarke’s chin before angling her head to press another kiss level with Clarke’s cheekbone. The blonde feels as if she has butterflies in her stomach as she sucks in a rush of pheromone laden air. 

Lexa pulls back from the Omega and rises from her seated position to rest on her knees – hovering a bit in the air above Clarke. Their eyes form a bridge where their words cannot. Green gazes down into blue with more passion than the Omega can describe. Clarke’s mouth runs dry. The sudden desire to push up and capture the Alpha’s lips is almost painful. Her Omega pulses. She wants Lexa to initiate this. It has to come from the Alpha. _Please, Lexa._

 

Lexa’s hands delicately trace each side of Clarke’s jaw as if she is paying homage to a reverent being. The touch is both a torment and a reward. The Alpha’s eyes zero in on Clarke’s skin where her lips graced the Omega’s skin. The rough pad of Lexa’s thumb sweeps over the spot and the Alpha pulls back to sit on her haunches. Her eyes are locked in concentration on her fingers. Lexa rubs her thumb and forefinger together slowly. Clarke holds in a disappointed sigh and straightens when she sees red smeared on the Alpha’s thumb. Her own fingers rise to her cheek and come away with the same muted stain.

 

Clarke’s eyes snap to Lexa’s lips and their unnatural red hue. Her sharp gaze finds Lexa’s.

 

It always comes back to blood.

 

A sharp rap on the door breaks their connection.

 

Clarke wants to scream and rage. She can see the Alpha closing up again. Lexa’s face conforms into its habitual unattached state as her brilliant eyes harden, preparing to become Heda in the face of this interruption.

Her Omega snaps its jaws angrily at the air. They were so close - Clarke could feel them coming together. Not Alpha and Omega - but Lexa and Clarke.

 

She curses this unknown person on the other side of the door. Damn them.

 

Lexa silently moves from the bed as the door pushes open without her command to bid a Beta man entrance. Clarke feels her wolf bristle as the tall bald man sweeps into the room. Her wolf watches this strange Beta with a cautious eye and a low growl escapes through her teeth without warning. There’s something about this wolf – his sense of entitlement maybe – how he carries himself – how he allows himself the power to enter Heda’s room under his own power. Her wolf has an imeediate distaste for his scent and her growl grows into a guttural snarl as he takes another step towards Lexa.

The Alpha stands tall; her strong shoulders pulled back and her chin held high under the Beta's scrutiny. The elder Beta sends a glare towards Clarke for her reaction to him and then looks to Heda with an expression that clearly means he expects the Alpha to reprimand the Omega. Lexa does not tell her to stop or to calm, and Clarke’s Omega is grateful for that. It feels like some small token of support for her alerted senses. Her Omega sees a threat in this man and his presence here is unwelcome.

 

Lexa cants her head towards the door and the Beta advisor opens his indignant mouth to protest. Clarke has not stopped her threatening sounds. Her chest is starting to throb uncomfortably but her wolf is adamant that this man removes himself from _her_ Alpha.

When the Beta does nothing but clasp his arms exasperatedly behind his back, Lexa releases a sharp crack of a snarl. The man shows his straining neck before exiting in a flurry of angrily whipped robes. Clarke stops rumbling as soon as the Beta is out of sight and clamps her eyes tightly shut, slightly embarrassed at her Omega’s outburst. She is short of breath and her arms are trembling from holding herself up.

 

Lexa’s scent permeates her senses as she feels herself being lifted slightly and placed gently back into the nest of furs. Her eyes open when Lexa’s lips land on her forehead and stay pressed against her skin - the Alpha takes a long pull of her scent as if she can't get enough of it. Clarke feels her wolf recede and a tiredness take over her limbs. She may have some direct connection to her wolf now but the effort has taken its toll. Lexa hesitantly pulls back and Clarke finds her Alpha’s face fading in and out of clarity. She finds this annoying. She wants to look at Lexa a while longer. Her body is pulling her into a drowsy trap. She doesn't want to sleep again. She feels the light touch of Lexa’s fingers brushing over her brow – a ghosting of another dreamed touch – as she struggles to keep her eyes open.

 

“Sleep, Klark.” Lexa says affectionately.

 

The Omega lamely shakes her head and hears the Alpha huff out a soft laugh. 

 

"You _will_ come back soon, Lexa." She watches the brunette through heavy lids as the Alpha pushes a loose blonde curl behind Clarke’s ear.

 

“I will return to you, Klark. Sleep now – you are safe, ai skaifaya (my star).”

 

Her Omega burrows into the warmth of Lexa’s Alpha saturating the room and surrounding her in an overwhelming serenity. "Reshop." Clarke mumbles.

 

The Alpha’s light retreating steps and the soft click of the door goes unheard.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! :)
> 
> The trip was great but it's good to be home. I always miss my own bed after a few days and the smell of my house.
> 
>  
> 
> Love that a lot of you are asking about Costia's mate. I'm almost afraid you'll be disappointed (hopefully not!).
> 
> Till next time!
> 
>  
> 
> Written to: 'Conscious' by Broods
> 
> and watching Penny Dreadful.


	17. The Board Is Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First off, how the heck have I written seventeen chapters?!?
> 
> Secondly, I just have to say - WOW! A big thanks to you guys for your great reviews and comments. I know I've said this before but I never thought this would take off like it has, or that it would be received so well and with so much enthusiasm. You rock, seriously.
> 
> Lastly, things are about to pick up a bit now that Clarke is starting to get involved in the game. Lexa is getting her house in order. Characters will start showing their true colors. Some intense scenes coming your way!
> 
> P.S  
> Also I most definitely went through all previous chapters and edited / added to them a lil bit. A few sentences here or there, fixed spelling / grammar, that sort of thing. No major changes, but if you wish to take another read through I'm certainly not going to stop you ;)
> 
> \------
> 
> Chapter Summary:
> 
>  
> 
> Titus thinks he's the shit.
> 
> Lexa takes a bath (Get out of here dirty birdies).
> 
> The Alpha is in the building.
> 
> Tondisi is infested (Gross).
> 
> Anya's a sass monster.
> 
> But we love her anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Seventeen **

  

_[Three hours earlier.]_

  

Titus was not in a pleasant mind. Since the Trikru General – shabbily dressed and curt tongued – had swept out of the throne room, the Fleimkepa had been contemplating the deeds of recent events. He had waved off the General’s disrespect of his position and moved to the balcony towering above Polis.

 

The trouble of a fallen Omega.

 

Heda’s claim during the Chase of her.

 

The Summit.

 

The challenges.

 

More trouble with the Skai Omega – and the oddity of her wolf.

 

The dead Boudalan man slain by Heda’s Alpha.

 

The Beta huffs. _Boudalan fools._

 

The coalition was a fickle thing; unstable and tentatively held together by a tight thread – wrapped by the bloody hand of Heda that could snap at any moment. Currently the twined threads were thinning in the resulting friction of the unrestful kongeda. Heda Leksa had united the twelve clans under one ruling force and for that he was immensely satisfied with the Heda spirit. Titus was proud of the Commander that Lexa had become and as a result, he was equally proud of himself. _He_ had been Heda’s guide and balance as was his honor and purpose in life. _He_ had kept Heda’s Alpha meticulously focused and poised under the spirit’s control.

 

Heda _had_ control, she always had it – until today it seems.

 

Although Lexa was thankfully uninjured according to the Beta General, Titus could see the unease the female wolf tried to hide from him. Heda was different since her return with the Omega. The Alpha within was instinctively reactive – as was the nature of her wolf – but the presentation of the beast was troubling. Before the Boudalan’s defeat, Titus had seen the flash of the visceral animal in Lexa’s eyes during the Summit. The hard, intimidating awe of her gaze flickering into a glassy drive of hate and hunger at the mention of the Skai Omega or Heda’s claim on her.

 

The advisor had hoped Lexa would have seen to more training of her wolf around Omegas – perhaps he should have prodded at the topic more fervently especially after the Trikru loss of Costia. The loss of the young Omega wounded the Trikru and left Heda bereft for a time. Titus had forced Lexa through it all and made it known that every wolf within the kongeda knew Polis remained strong and even offered their sincere congratulations at the announcement of the Trikru Omega becoming part of the Trishana. Yes, Costia was a loss – but a necessary one for the kongeda to survive. _A necessary evil – such is the way of the world. Such is the sacrifice of the spirit of Heda and its vessel._

 

Titus clenches his fists in his robes.

 

The vessel – Lexa – is once again unfocused. _Can nothing go according to plan._ His frustration is palpable as the Polis breeze carries away his scent.

 

An unfocused gona is a dead gona. An unfocused leader is an easy target obliviously walking hand in hand with death. No matter how strong Lexa’s Alpha is, all it would take is one unguarded moment; one slip and the vessel would be no more. 

Titus could not let this come to pass. Heda was his responsibility. Lexa was special. This Alpha vessel could lead them all into a lasting peace – an end to war and a time of prosperity. A united land shaped by Heda’s hand – and directed by the Fleimkepa’s arm by the will of the great Moon keryon.

 

_As it has been for generations._

_As it will continue to be._

 

Titus swims in his role of Fleimkepa. He adheres to his beliefs and the perceived strength the spirit relays through him to protect the Commander’s legacy.

 

He looks down at Polis with a nostalgic sweep of his eyes. Titus smooths his hands down his robes and turns from the balcony. He will speak with Heda now. He has waited almost three candle marks this day and almost four days in total since the Omega took ill. He has held off ambassadors, delegates, and Kwen alike in light of Heda’s noticeable absence. It is enough of this pheromone folly. The Alpha must be Heda now, no matter the enticing draw of her wolf to remain with the injured Omega. Even if this Omega is something of interest, Lexa has a part to play and the world will not wait any longer.

 

The Fleimkepa waves at the guards to open the throne room doors before him as he sets off at a steady clip to Heda’s chambers.

  

* * *

  

_[Present.]_

 

 

Lexa scrubs at the dried dark flakes of gore clinging to her neck and arms. It itched. She watches as the brittle pieces rehydrate and swirl thick into the still water of the Commander’s bathing pool. She scrubs harder.

 

The Alpha is still preening over the victory, the sight of the remains of the enemy covering her muscles is a boast of her wolf’s might and power to defend her intended mate. Lexa fights the bile rising up her throat.

She is no stranger to blood or to a vicious death, but the thought of Clarke seeing her this way – seeing all her horrible, vulnerable darkness laid bare and malicious on her person – it was as terrifying as it was exciting. It was crushing her in ways she had not thought to be crushed. Lexa had never been so frightened as a wolf or as a woman to look in those brilliant blue eyes and have them see _all_ of her – blood, beast and all.

 

Clarke surprised her. The blonde had wrapped her in her arms and enveloped her in Omega scent, mixing their purrs into their hair and under their skin. Lexa had felt the protective nature in Clarke’s Omega. She had felt her own trepidation and her fears dissipate as a result. The Omega was her Alpha’s sanctuary. Clarke was Lexa’s safety.

 

And when Clarke had purred _for_ her – _spirits_ – Lexa’s Alpha had howled in delight. When Clarke had pressed her closer and scratched gently behind her ear, Lexa had wanted to melt indefinitely into the blonde and never separate from her. She had buried her face into the Omega’s pale neck as if it was ingrained in _her_ , not her wolf, but in _Lexa_ to do so. Clarke’s arms around her had the Alpha balancing on a precarious edge – one she had wanted to fall from willingly. All of it had felt so _natural_.

 

Lexa’s wolf thrums strongly in her chest.

 

The Alpha’s hands trail up and down her arms, now freed of battle marks and unnatural color. Her fingers pull back her slick dark mane, unencumbered by braids and smooths over her scalp to allow the excess water to cascade down her back. Her chin tips up and she takes in a reserved breath. Her heart quickens when she recalls the fire in Clarke’s eyes as the Omega had gazed up at her. How they darkened and expanded to take all of her in as the Omega’s soft hands settled lightly on the Alpha’s hips.

 

_Spirits, I wanted to kiss her._

Lexa licks her lips. She had wanted to do more than kiss Clarke. She had trailed her eyes over Clarke’s cheeks and her nose and lips. She had followed down the slope of the Omega’s neck and over her collarbone, to the space just over her heart. Her Alpha had wanted to do nothing more than to lower her mouth to Clarke’s glistening skin and taste the essence on the blonde as her tongue twisted shapes and letters onto the Omega’s heated flesh. Lexa felt herself flush as the desire resurfaced and curled low in her belly. A small fire had erupted in her chest when her wolf first met Clarke’s and now it has grown wild and ferocious and hungry.

 

It makes her smile. It makes Lexa fearful but deliriously happy.

 

 _It makes you weak_ , Heda hisses.

 

The Alpha snaps defensively. _Our Omega is not weakness. She is ours. To protect. To defend. To love._

 

“Hodnes (Love).”

 

Lexa swallows thickly at the word as it passes over her lips in a quiet whisper. The word itself feels reserved only for Clarke somehow – to be kept safe and locked away.

 

Could she – could Heda – truly feel love again? Is that what she was developing with Clarke - love? There was obvious attraction comparable to a magnetic pull between them. Her Alpha had chosen Clarke’s Omega and imprinted heavily on the white wolf. She knew now that no other mate would ever be enough; Clarke was meant for her. Did the imprint equate to love simply because their wolves wanted each other? She is definitely fond of Clarke; she could feel her wolf care for the blonde deeply. But was it love to Lexa to feel drawn to her Alpha’s opposite? Was it love if her Alpha was constantly calling for the Omega and drowning Lexa’s thoughts with visions of Clarke?

 

Her wolf yearns for the sentiment to be true.

 

“Love or lust.”

 

For an Alpha and Omega, the distinction was unfortunately blurred. Pheromones and hormones were at play as much as the sun rising over the land – it was inevitable and glorious but it could confuse and even destroy a wolf.

 

Lexa had seen an Alpha and Omega match once when she was a small pup – a rarity that required a huge celebration in the Alpha’s home clan, the Podakru. The two wolves were constantly around each other, seemingly engulfed by the other while the world faded away. Lexa was sure this was what love must look like, and months afterwards she dreamed of finding an Omega mate to share that closeness with. After the frenzy of the Alpha/Omega union, Lexa did not see the couple again for many years – the next sighting was after her training with Anya had been underway for two seasons. The two wolves she had witnessed years ago were overrun with pups of all ages. Lexa had found the vision of the family warming until she noticed the sire’s interactions with his mate. They no longer looked at one another with adoration or even simple affection; the fire between them was all but ash – cold and sterile. They seemed to still feel drawn together as Alpha and Omega wolves, but their scents spoke of irritation towards the pull; bitterness even. Lexa was shattered.

 

Lexa huffs as she stands from her pool. In either case – love or lust – she cannot deny her desire to be close to Clarke any longer. If the Chase is meant to be for them both – to bring the clans peace through their claim, certainly that must mean peace between Clarke and herself as well. And perhaps with peace, there will be the chance for love - a real love between them.

 

 _One can only hope_ , her heart offers.

 

 _Hope is a dangerous thing_ , Heda returns with a measured heaviness.

 

The Alpha pads softly into another room to retrieve a towel and moves to a wardrobe filled with her clothing. Once suitably dry, Lexa drops the damp towel and claims a strapped long sleeve shirt and dark leather pants for herself. As she pulls the shirt over her head, she is saddened somewhat to find that her collar and her jaw are now free of Clarke’s scent. She had needed the bath but losing the Omega’s pheromones against her skin has her Alpha miffed. Her spirit lightens when she realizes the scent will return once she rejoins Clarke in her sleeping quarters. Her wolf is equally eager on scenting the blonde with her own fresh musk.

 

She is intent on returning to the Omega and keeping her word.

 

She made Clarke a promise. _Lexa_ made Clarke a promise.

 

She may not know if what she feels for Clarke is love, but the blonde sends her stomach flipping and makes her blood pump faster than it has in years outside of training. Maybe that is all she needs to know for now. They have some time to figure it out – to travel this path together if the Omega wishes.

 

Heda _will_ defeat her challengers. _Her_ Alpha will remain Alpha. Lexa will keep Clarke _safe_.

 

As Lexa finishes the styled shirt’s ties at the nape of her neck, she works her fingers deftly through her hair as she makes quick work of her braids. In minutes she is placing the symbol of the Commander upon her forehead and making her way to the doorway. The Alpha pulls open the door, glad that she had ordered Anya to watch over Clarke while she slept. Her wolf trusted no one else to do so with as much skill and competency than her fos.

 

Lexa nearly groans when Titus stands rigidly in front of her. He must have been waiting for her to emerge this whole time since she ordered him – non too politely – from her sleeping quarters.

 

“Heda.” His voice is slightly clipped. He is irritable; still upset she passed him aside for Clarke. Lexa bites back the urge to growl.

 

“Titus.” Lexa begins walking down the corridor, determined on reaching the upper floor and Clarke. Titus catches up with her pace and follows in stride.

 

“Heda there are matters that require your attention. The Kongeda must be informed of Boudalan’s challenge and defeat.”

 

Lexa rounds a stone wall and continues. “Then inform them.” Her voice is flat. The man is dead. The clans knowing this night or when the sun rises does not change the fact that there is a corpse in the mortuary. Dead is dead.

 

“And what of Indra’s messenger? Of the Maunon movement around Tondisi? Not to mention the scurrying of the Ice Nation inside the tower. The Queen has not been still these past days, Heda. She moves unseen against your will even now.”

 

“It is late. I will deal with the kongeda and the Azplana myself come next light. Inform the delegates and ambassadors of the coming meeting. Onya will receive any messages in my stead until then. As for Tondisi, I need more information. Send for Gustos. I will have him scout the area and meet with Indra to prepare for my arrival should it be needed.”

 

Lexa watches the Fleimkepa from the corner of her eye. His lips are drawn paper thin and he is attempting not to snap out against her plans. As Heda, she is grateful for his teachings and knowledge but at times such as this, he forgets she is not simply one being – she is _Heda_. She contains more experiences and lives lived than he can even fathom. No plan has not been dissected less than hundred times in her mind. As Heda she must see every angle, account for any possible deception and potential trap; she must have the eyes and ears of a God. She must be nothing less in his eyes.

 

Titus nearly scoffs. “Heda you cannot just—”

 

The Alpha rounds on him with an admonitory snarl. “—I cannot _what,_ Titus? Tell me, ticha, what can _I_ not do?!”

 

Titus stutters in his steps and swallows audibly. He knows he has overstepped. Her eyes do not leave his as she follows his subtle movements at collecting himself. After a beat, she breaks the connection and moves onwards.

 

She hears his footsteps follow once again.

 

“Forgive my impertinence Heda, I am simply concerned for you. You have spent the last three days locked in your chambers with that _Omega_ , and the workings of your clans did not halt. Sha, Onya took care of most of the minor disputes and the reports for the growing seasons and coming harvest – but Heda these are _your_ responsibilities and you were _absent_. Your duty to your people—”

 

 _“Em pleni!”_ Lexa’s voice echoes down the hallway.

 

This time when Lexa turns towards the Beta, her Alpha spikes like a crack of a whip and slaps harshly against Titus’ face. The Alpha is clearly holding back. Her muscles are tense and the tendons in her neck strain as a rumble escapes her throat.

 

“My duty to _my_ people remains. I know of my duty—do not deem yourself my conscience. That ‘Omega’ as you so put, will soon become a part of my people. And as I recall, _you_ were adamant that our union would bring peace to my coalition. How do you expect me to do this without being in her presence? She is _mine_ and I will treat her how I see fit. _Do you understand_ , Fleimkepa?”

 

The Beta whimpers slightly under the onslaught of Heda’s pheromones. He shows his neck and averts his gaze to the floor.

 

“Now leave me, and send for Gustos as I commanded.”

 

Lexa does not look back as she charges down the corridor in a cloud of barely concealed agitation. Her Alpha is bubbling dangerously beneath her skin. She should not have allowed him to ramble on so. His concerns are valid to a point but they verge on condescension. Lexa knows better than anyone her duty to her people – she does not need a lecture from Titus. She is not a pup any longer. She is Alpha.

 

Lexa beats her knuckles against the stone wall of the corridor, feeling the rock crumble slightly under her Alpha’s rage.

 

“Ai laik _Heda_.”

  

* * *

  

_[Tondisi]_

  

Indra grunts as her hand releases her spear in an expertly developed arch, the strength of her throw can be heard as the weapon skims through the night air with a sharp whistle.  Its deadly point secures a ripa with lighting precision to a gnarled tree. The creature screeches as the spear pierces through its spine, cracking through vertebrae and separating discs, sinking deeply into the trunk of the tree behind it. Foam coats the ripa’s jaws in a thick pale yellowed mucus as it writhes against the bark until the madness leaves its eyes vacant and hollow.

The Trikru leader of Tondisi growls in satisfaction and a deep seated anger. Her sword and spear have avenged the three gonas lost to her this past week. It still does not feel like enough. It does not feel like retribution. Their deaths are on her shoulders and on the Maun-de. No matter how many ripas they end, the beasts continue to swarm back more determined than before.

 

The Beta leader snaps her jaws and rushes over to the pinned ripa before she wrenches her spear free with a vicious yank. The hulking body collapses at her feet with a sickening squelch. Indra pulls a dagger from her thigh and carves the symbol of Trikru into the body of the trunk. This will become a new marker for her people and serve as a warning to any ignorant travelers. This is where the new border of Tondisi will be set.

 

She scents the air. It reeks of them. Ripas – and ripa piss. Damn them all. Curse the Maunon and these wretched creatures.

 

A lone gona jogs into view, nodding to his leader. The rest of her hunting pack falls in around her as she takes stock of her warriors. They are all beaten and weathered looking, but fortunately all they wear are minor injuries. None will die this night. Indra can be grateful for that at least.

She collects her weapons and begins to stalk back to Tondisi. The new border is only a few miles from her village. Too close. It’s too _joken_ close. She sheathes her dagger and sword easily as her pack falls in line without a word needed to be said. They follow her lead effortlessly.

 

The ripas have been expanding the land of the Maunon. The revolting jackals spread their filth across the ground and over trees and rock alike. They have been setting up wider and larger pieces of land for new perimeters around the mountain. The fog has spread its reach as well – expanding the destruction of its hand to meet these newly drawn lines. The question of ‘why?’ still eludes the Trikru leader and frustrates her as much as she knows it does her people. The land they have lost was fertile and enriched for farming during the wet seasons. The forests now taken over were ripe with deer and boar among other smaller animals her hunters brought back to skin and feed their families.

 

This new development could severely hinder the success and livelihood of Tondisi. If the forests and farmlands cannot be reclaimed, the remaining woodlands will be overhunted within a matter of months. Her people will starve, or be forced to leave.

 

The Mountain Valley where the Skai Omega landed has been utterly overrun. It is lost to them now. Heda had asked that the vessel be salvaged and that anything that could be saved be transported to the capital. Indra felt the heat of shame burn like acid in her veins when she had the boy messenger report that she could not keep the Valley under her control. 

The Beta knew Lexa would not wish her to stay where the Tondisi leader knew her people would be constantly under attack or even ambushed just to save a hunk of skai metal – still, the failure was another stone on her shoulder blades. She could only hope that Heda would send Anya or perhaps Gustus to reaffirm her calculations for her village. Tondisi was under siege. They were being cut off, and soon they would be starved out.

 

Lexa had been right.

 

They all knew this day would come.

 

Indra had absurdly hoped that the Azplana bitch would be long dead before Heda required the use of the kongeda’s collective armies. The Beta had hoped that with the fall of this Omega prisa, the ritual between the girl and Heda would solidify the clans securely and with a united patriotism so that when the Maunon finally did decide to make their move – her people, _all_ of her people under their Heda would destroy these wuskripas (monsters).

 

Once and for all.

 

Indra spat a small pool of blood from her mouth and wipes at her busted lip.

 

Hope was a fool’s wish.

 

Indra could play the fool no longer.

  

* * *

  

_[Polis tower: Heda’s private floor.]_

  

Ontari is leaning against the doorway just before the Commander’s corridor. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her back takes most of her weight as her legs merely keep her balanced in this aloof position. The Azgeda’s nostrils flare as she identifies Lexa’s musk gaining ground.

 

“Well, well, Heda finally emerges.”

 

Lexa stops just short of the corridor and twists her squared shoulders slightly to angle herself towards the Azgeda wolf. After her run in with Titus, this confrontation is most unwelcome. Her patience is thinning by the second.

 

“And what may I ask is your business here, Ontari kom Azgeda?” Lexa’s voice is tight and her fingers itch to release a hidden blade should this Ice wolf make any sudden moves.

 

“Relax, Heda. I was most curious of the prisa’s well being. Is she finally awake?” A hint of honest concern tints the Ice Alpha’s words.

 

“She recovers.” Heda’s voice is dry and unconcerned. Ontari narrows her eyes as her fingers grip her biceps a bit harder. Heda’s clipped answer is unsatisfactory for this Azgeda wolf.

 

“Three day’s recovery, hmm? That’s a long time to be lost to one’s wolf. As the prisa’s claimed Alpha you _should_ have been able to pull her out of her wolf-state sooner, _sha_?” Lexa bristles at the accusation and even more knowing Ontari may be right. “Perhaps Klark’s wolf needs a more _experienced_ hand—or Alpha for that matter.”

 

“Is that a _challenge_?” Lexa’s wolf snarls as Heda bares her teeth.

 

Ontari loosens her hold on her arms and snorts at Lexa’s outburst. “Beja Heda, does it look as if I am in a state to challenge you?” Ontari lowers her chin to show off her Azgeda braids. No Commander’s twists or circlet bands are present in her ebony hair.

 

The Commander lets out a snuff of breath through her nose. Her chin remains high. She is still the Alpha here. This is her tower and her floor. Clarke is hers.

 

“If that is all.” Lexa tilts her head to dismiss the Azgeda wolf from this place. Her wolf can bare Ontari’s scent this close to Clarke’s no longer.

 

Ontari huffs and pushes off effortlessly from the wall. She begins to move down the opposite hall towards the descending stairwell.

 

Lexa allows herself to swallow down her Alpha’s tension. Her first steps are solid and determined until she hears Ontari’s voice floating down the empty corridor.

 

“Be prepared, Heda. The board is set in this _great_ game we have in play.”

 

Lexa whips her head to the deserted corridor watching the flames from the torches flicker off the stone walls. Her jaw flexes and clenches. _...in this great game we have in play._

 

She has heard these words before. “The board is set indeed.”

 

The Alpha growls. She almost runs down to her sleeping quarters, needing to see Clarke safe and whole now more than ever.

  

* * *

  

_[An hour earlier.]_

  

Clarke stirs wrapped in warmth and softness.

 

The unmistakable scent of her Alpha - of Lexa - presses in all around her. Clarke can’t help but stretch her limbs as she turns her face into the compelling furs that smell so deliciously of the absent brunette. It’s a second hand scent but it’s enough to make her Omega react. 

She whimpers weakly as more and more of her senses awaken and she is pulled into waking fully. The blonde’s eyes open to the sight of Lexa’s pale furs. She is still in the Alpha’s bed where Lexa had left her. The room is darker than before, but a faint light flits in strength behind her. Clarke rolls over and is greeted with the audience of a smug looking Anya draped casually in one of the more comfortable looking chairs in Lexa’s room.

 

Clarke blearily blinks her eyes a few times and props herself up on an elbow.

 

“Welcome back, prisa.” The Beta sounds relieved and she even offers Clarke a sincere half smile.

 

“Anya?” Clarke is a bit surprised by how glad she is to see the Trikru General.

 

“I knew you would make your way back.” Anya’s smile falters as a sobriety clears her face leaving a serious yet humble expression on her features.

 

“Klark, I take full responsibility for the actions of my gonas. Ryder and Linkon have been punished accordingly for disobeying orders. As your guide I failed you by allowing you in the company of those who would abuse their station.”

 

“It’s okay, Anya, really. They were only trying to help me. It’s not their fault. I’m the one that lost control.” Clarke’s eyes widened in horror at the memory of what she had done. “Oh my god. I-I should be apologizing to them, especially Ryder. Is he okay? Did I—”

 

“—Calm yourself, Klark. Ryder survived. The wound was not deep. He acted a fool and so he was gifted with foolishness.” The Beta had straightened in her chair and was leaning forward with her forearms resting on her knees. “You are not at fault.”

 

Clarke’s mind pieces her chipped memories together. Her hand covers her mouth and pulls back as if expecting to feel Ryder’s blood on her fingertips. She can still taste the copper and hint of iron on her tongue. She looks away from Anya and down to her fingers. “If Ontari hadn’t—and Lexa, I might’ve—I could have—.” Her voice is weak and trails off and she swallows audibly. She could have _killed_ someone.

 

“No, Klark.” The sharp voice of the Beta being so near causes Clarke’s head to whip up. Anya has moved to the stool near the edge of the bed without her noticing. “You were meant to be protected. Their reckless actions could have caused your death, as well as their own.”

 

Clarke could do nothing but stare at the Beta. She had no idea she had been so close to death herself—whoever she attacked, yes—she had savagely bit a man for moon’s sake, but herself? No, never.

 

“I had dreams.” The blonde blurts out. “I saw things after Lexa carried me here. I fell asleep, I think, and I saw—I think I saw…”

 

Anya’s eyes watch her with the focus of a hawk. Her voice is calm and steady. “What did you see, prisa?”

 

Clarke glances up at the General. “My father. I saw my father as a wolf. I’ve never seen that side of him while I was awake, but it was him. I _know_ it was.”

 

“The Moon sends us dreams to guide us. That is the way of the spirit. You were sent yours.”

 

“My dreams—you believe they were visions of some kind?”

 

“Sha, prisa. The Moon spirit grants us dreams, memories, visions of what we need to see to give us strength in times of need. What did you see?”

 

Clarke hoists herself up into a sitting position while pulling Lexa’s furs into her lap. “I saw nothing and then a dead, empty land. Nothing grew there—it was cold and desolate. My whole body was in a ridiculous amount of pain the entire time. I felt like I was splitting in two. And then my Omega, my wolf—it left me. I felt it _leave_. I have never felt more alone than in that moment.”

 

Clarke pauses and looks up from her lap. Her fingers play with the ends of the fur blanket as more of her dream—vision—whatever, seeps into her memory. She focuses on Anya. The Trikru Beta is silent with concentration. She seems to be studying Clarke’s words as one of her hands rests underneath her jaw to prop her chin against it. Her dark amber eyes connect with Clarke.

 

“Your spirit _was_ being torn in half; after your forced shift your wolf as well as yourself – Klark – became unbalanced and at odds with yourself as a whole.” The Beta sucks in a short breath. “You saw your wolf – your spirit. You allowed her to guide you.”

 

The words are not said as questions but Clarke reads them for what they are. She nods slowly, amazed that Anya actually believes the story of her dream—that the beta is actually making sense of what she had fought to abandon for wakefulness.

 

“I didn’t think it was real. Honestly, I’m surprised you don’t find me crazy. You really believe in all this spiritual dream stuff? I could have been hallucinating under my fever.”

 

Anya hums. “Without our spirit we are lost. To be lost is to be nothing. There is no worse a fate. Did you feel this, Klark? Did that loss feel real to you?”

 

Clarke’s lower lip begins to tremble as her hands bunch in the furs. “Yes.” The blonde breathes out in a shaky voice. The place felt as real as the bed she is sitting on. The pain she endured, the scents, and the power she gained from her wolf—her mind remembers it all as if it were another scene from her past; not some distorted whimsical, unplaced dream.

 

“I scented Lexa after I found my wolf. My Omega returned and then I felt Lexa. I think she pulled my out of my dream, Anya. I felt her calling me—not my name but I felt it – a pull. It’s difficult to explain.”

 

This seems to please the Trikru General. It’s a subtle response, but Clarke is getting better at reading these stoic Trikru wolves. Anya’s brow line raises up slightly and her eyes flicker in wonder at Clarke’s admission.

 

“How could Lexa do that, Anya? She wasn’t in that place with me.”

 

The Beta nods.

 

“Since your heat, your Omega—,” Anya taps a finger against Clarke’s forehead, “—your wolf and Leksa’s Alpha have been imprinting on one another. Each time you are together that connection grows in strength. The longer you are in each other’s company, the clearer that bond becomes. You must feel some force tugging at your insides now that you have joined with your wolf.”

 

Clarke tilts her head against Anya’s finger before the Beta withdraws the contact. The Omega stays silent, completely enraptured by the General’s explanation.

 

“After you reconnected with your wolf, you became aware of that bond—the imprint.”

 

“Why didn’t I sense it before?”

 

“Would you think to search for a growing plant when there is no soil? Your wolf was not fully awake. You and your Omega dance around each other inside the same vessel. That is why you cannot shift, Klark.”

 

“That oddly makes sense.”

 

Anya scoffs.  “Of course it does. It is the truth.”

 

Clarke chuckles at the Beta feigning insult. She is glad Anya is her guide—that she can speak to the Beta about these things and the woman listens and believes her. There is one more thing nagging at her. Perhaps Anya will have insight to this as well – even if it is a tad embarrassing.

 

“Anya, when I woke up Lexa was here with me.” _Well, more like on top of me._ The Beta dips her chin to let Clarke know she is listening as the Omega swallows. “When I woke up, my eyes, my sense of smell, even how my body felt was— _charged_. I felt this great sense of energy racing through me. I’ve reasoned that it was due to the merging with my wolf’s spirit, but would connecting with my Omega cause me to act a certain way towards Lexa?”

 

Anya raises a curious brow. “Act in what way exactly?”

 

Clarke flushes and averts her gaze; that’s all the beta needs to know.

 

“You are Omega, Klark. There are certain aspects of your nature you can learn to control with training and discipline, but those aspects – those urges I suspect – will still be there.”

 

“My body clearly understands that, but my mind is having a rough time accepting this new piece of myself.” Clarke locks eyes with the General. “It’s more than just Omega and Alpha, Anya – whatever this is between Lexa and I – it’s not just an imprint or instinct.”

 

Anya allows a soft smile to pull at her lips. “Sha, Klark.”

 

“Even though I can count the number of things I know about Lexa on one hand,” Clarke lifts her palm up to emphasize her point. “– I feel as if I know her. I’m ignorant to her lineage, if she has any siblings, what her favorite color is, what she enjoys to eat, or her favorite season; I know nothing about Lexa except what I’ve seen through tents and hallways, and what you’ve told me.”

 

Clarke quiets. When Lexa looks at Clarke, when they are near one another—it sounds crazy, but the blonde can feel how much the brunette hides behind Heda, and despite that Clarke can still see the Alpha’s capacity to feel immensely. Lexa is so strong; deceptively and irritably complex, but when it comes to expressing herself and _not_ Heda - she seems utterly lost. It’s so damn frustrating.

 

“I’m trying Anya – I told you I would and I am. I don’t want another Alpha. I know that I want Lexa. I want to believe Lexa wishes the same, but what we know of each other is nothing more than superficial – there is no depth. There is no real trust, only secrets and unknowns. We know nothing of each other save what we see across the distances she puts between us.”

 

“Then learn.”

 

Clarke huffs. Of course that would be Anya’s response. It’s easy for the Beta to say. She already knows most of Lexa’s complexity. “That’s more easily said than done.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Have you met Lexa? Trying to keep her in the same room with my lucid self is like trying to hold onto an eel.” Clarke sends Anya a crooked look and the Beta laughs softly.

 

“Fair enough, prisa.” The Beta stretches out her legs and props them up on the frame of the bed. “You are a terrible learner in any case.”

 

Clarke scoffs. “A student’s success in a lesson is only as good as the teacher giving it, General.”

 

Anya’s face is priceless. Her eyes widen at the direct jab at her skills and her lips purse as if she’s eaten a tart raspberry. The Beta pushes weakly at Clarke’s covered knee with the toe of her boot.

 

“Touché, prisa.”

 

Clarke's nose flares minutely and her eyes move to the room's door. “Anya, do you—can you smell her too? Approaching, I mean.”

 

The Beta General grins. “Sha, Klark. Leksa will be here for you momentarily.”

 

Clarke can’t hold back a smile as she curls her toes in the warmth of Lexa’s furs.

 

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to:
> 
> 'Skin of the Night' by M83 (I will be seeing them in concert very soon - so exciting).
> 
> and 
> 
> 'Until We Go Down' by Ruelle.
> 
>  
> 
> Watching:
> 
> The Shannara Chronicles on Netflix (Fantasy/Scifi series produced by MTV?? Kind of reminds me of LoTS only with demons and elves. I'm all about this life.)


	18. In The Eyes Of A God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys have NO idea how happy your responses to Titus make me. Literally, almost every single one had me cackling at my computer screen like an idiot. It was great - so thank you for that.
> 
> Oh my goodness, I wrote so much you guys! So I finally give you some well deserved fluff, but expect next chapter to be plot driven cause shit is going down!
> 
> \----
> 
> Chapter Summary:
> 
> Lexa and Clarke are on the same page (finally).
> 
> Ontari meets Costia's mate.
> 
> Tris and Clarke have a picnic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Eighteen **

  

 

Clarke grunts and turns her face into the slightly sweat laced skin of Lexa’s neck as she fights off waking. The sun’s bothersome pre-dawn rays threaten the cool darkness of Lexa’s shaded bedroom.

Ever since Lexa had stormed through the doors of her quarters the night before – seeping of dominant Alpha and remnants of recent aggression – the Omega’s eyes had fixed sharply onto the Alpha’s form and refused to leave her for a single instant; the rise and fall of the brunette’s chest as she breathed, the shapes of syllables made by her plump lips as she spoke quietly to her General, the way her darkening eyes would flit over to find Clarke’s to hold their gaze as she was speaking. Clarke’s Omega felt caught in the orbit of exquisite green forests, unable to leave and finding no desire to do so.

 

Her wolf howled and Lexa answered.

 

Her Omega hums at the memory of greedily reaching out for Lexa after Anya’s departure, and having the Alpha obey immediately by hastily crawling in a languid motion of limbs into her open arms – settling completely against her frame on the furs. She had wrapped around Lexa like a grapevine clinging to a vital pillar of strength.

Purring erupted from Lexa’s throat the second Clarke’s scent slid over the enthusiastic Alpha. Lexa had effortlessly molded herself to Clarke’s front with a full bodied sigh. She twisted her jaw to glide it over Clarke’s and the tender skin underneath as if it were paramount that the thickness of her Alpha permeate the Omega’s flesh. 

Satisfied with the rich application, Lexa had burrowed her face beneath Clarke’s chin and ear. She nudged at the soft skin of the blonde’s neck with her nose as she inhaled the purest essence of Omega.

 

A soft whine escaped Clarke’s lips when the Alpha began leisurely nipping at her exposed throat. Clarke had merely tightened her embrace around the brunette in retaliation – expunging a breathless squeak from the Alpha’s agape mouth; a sound that was most un-Heda like. Lexa had snorted in amusement and returned the sentiment by crushing the Omega firmly to her chest with a possessive growl. 

Clarke’s wolf had crooned at the assertive action; the flourishing white beast under skin demanding to be as close to Lexa as possible. Clarke hadn’t the will nor desire to stop her Omega from taking what it wanted.

 

The Alpha had yielded absolutely to the content rumbling spiraling out from under her breast and into her extremities until they both slipped into sleep together beneath the flickering midnight constellations.

 

Clarke is pulled from the memory as she feels the Alpha shifting beside her. A low grumble vibrates through Lexa’s chest and Clarke cannot help but deliberately push herself harder against the Alpha to feel it fully. 

Clarke has decided to let her newly birthed wolf guide her; she will surrender to the Omega on dealings regarding the Alpha.

 

The revitalizing feel her wolf’s enhanced senses is at a constant high. It is an exuberant rush.

Her sense of smell is more acute yet she finds she can handle a multitude of scents without the answering acidic burn in her nostrils. She can smell the Beta guards stationed outside the door, and the young Alpha attendant jogging down the stairwell carrying fresh linens, even the beginnings of flour being kneaded into sticky, yeast heavy dough in the depths of the kitchens. 

She can acutely hear these wolves and many various activities if she applies enough effort.

 

However, in this moment all Clarke wishes to smell and hear and – _spirits_ – feel is the Alpha pressed tightly against her. All these parcels of Lexa have a delicious hypnotism that her Omega cannot ignore.

The air moving in and out of her Alpha’s lungs, and the strong, steady heart beating beneath Lexa’s breast mirror her own. Her fingertips graze the other girl’s hip and rest on the immaculate muscles of her abdomen that twitch under the light exploration. Her Omega sucks down the fresh spiced scent pouring from the other wolf.

 

Lexa smells so good.

 

She never wants the Alpha’s scent to leave her. The natural woodsy mix sifted with that of the Alpha is intoxicating for her wolf. Clarke’s impulse is to lean in and taste it laying heavy on the skin shielded by the cotton shirt. The urge grows stronger as Lexa’s leather clad calves drift against her own. The Alpha groans as Clarke’s Omega emits a concentrated pulse of pheromones calling to the other girl still caught in an easy slumber.

 

“Lexa.” She murmurs into the stagnant air.

 

Her Omega takes the initiative and bravely nips at the Alpha’s covered chest. Her teeth cautiously scrape over Lexa’s exposed collarbone and like a spark leaping off of a shard of flint, the Alpha jolts to life. 

Lexa growls appreciatively as Clarke’s teeth stay pressed into the Alpha’s skin. Her tongue dips to taste the salt and sweetness that clings to tanned flesh. Toned arms slip around Clarke’s sides to roll her completely atop the brunette’s body – Clarke straddles the other girl but keeps her front flush to Lexa’s. Her ample chest connecting snugly with Lexa’s is divine. She boldly licks over the edge of Lexa’s collarbone and slants to suck at the Alpha’s exposed shoulder.

 

Lexa groans and her muscles twitch as a shiver creeps down her bicep and spindles into her fingers. Clarke purrs at the gravely scratch of Lexa’s unused voice still labored with sleep.

 

She sucks harder.

 

“ _Klarrrrk_.” Her name is a guttural whine. She is addicted to these ephemeral sounds.

 

Clarke nuzzles the abused flesh with attentive affection.

 

Lexa had returned for her. She had kept her word and welcomed Clarke into her arms. _More like Lexa dove into mine._

 

Clarke cherishes the smile the memory brings to her lips. Lexa had held her impossibly close the entire night, whispering the blonde’s name and soft words in Trigedasleng. 

Lexa brushes her nose against the Omega’s cheek, and tilts her head to bite teasingly at Clarke’s ear. Her wolf is delighted that the Alpha wishes to dally in this youthfulness with her. She cannot help but express her wolf’s elation. She wants Lexa’s wolf to gambol with her in the furs every day; to twist and tumble together as their wolves scent every inch of the other. Clarke twists her head with a playful whine and finally turns to focus on vibrant green.

 

Lexa is a vision.

 

Her braids are loose, and her waves are in lustrous tangles tossed about her shoulders and neck. Her eyes trace over Clarke’s face even though they are still heavy with sleep. The rawness of the Alpha is wonderfully endearing. 

Clarke dips her head to grasp at the hem of Lexa’s shirt with her teeth, and the Alpha chuckles as she wraps her arms around Clarke’s back. Clarke rubs her jawline over the Alpha’s naked skin – painting the Alpha with her scent. The brunette lifts her head to brush against Clarke and purrs louder when she feels Clarke’s wolf dancing inside the blonde’s chest.

 

Clarke will be able to shift soon. She can feel her wolf stalking through muscles, bones, and tendons under her pale skin. Her scent is strong and springing alive with her Omega.

 

Lexa closes her eyes in relief as her Alpha thrums under her skin. Their wolves’ connection is palpable in the air. The brunette exhales a contented sigh as her fingers trail up and down Clarke’s spine. The blonde sinks even further into Lexa’s arms. 

She feels like mush. She loves it.

 

Lexa noses at the blonde’s head. “The sun will rise soon. I must ready for the coming meeting.”

 

Clarke shakes her head as she nuzzles into the crook of the Alpha’s neck.

 

“Klark, beja.” Lexa’s voice is airy and beautifully young; it lacks the stern authority to reprimand or change the Omega’s mind. Clarke smiles against the Alpha’s skin. _Lexa_ is _happy_ – the Alpha fits evenly into the serene peace of joy Clarke offers. Her Omega could howl if she wished.

 

The blonde hums a negative and nibbles impishly at the other girl’s shoulder, too drunk on this moment to let it go.

 

A light hearted laugh floats up from Lexa’s throat as Clarke begins placing feather light kisses up the Alpha’s neck and across her sculpted jaw. Clarke feels giddy. The pull – the imprint – between Lexa and herself is taut but not strained. Snug and comfortable around her wolf without an unyielding choke of obligation. It feels so much more – an innumerable blessing. 

She loves being able to touch her Alpha this way; to be close to Lexa this way. She is soaking in every laugh, every purr, every glimpse of emotion – and freezing it fresh and permanent in her mind.

 

Lexa’s hands drift up to cup Clarke’s face. The blonde nearly whimpers at the unrestrained smile illuminating Lexa’s face. _Gods, she is radiant and mine,_ her heart leaps.

 

“Hei, Klark.” The intense fire and unique tenderness in Lexa’s gaze causes a knot to form in her stomach.

 

Struck by a sudden shyness, Clarke ducks her head and turns her chin into a warm palm. She presses her lips to the Alpha’s skin. “Hei, Lexa.”

 

The Alpha’s smile softens and her thumbs stroke along Clarke’s cheekbones. Her fingers dust underneath her sleep mussed hair and scrape gently over her scalp.

 

“You stayed.” The Omega breathes out under the attention.

 

“I stayed.” The Alpha preens as Clarke leans into her touch and closes her blue eyes.

 

“I didn’t think that you would.”

 

“I am your Alpha,” Lexa informs, “as you are my Omega.” The final words tumble from Lexa’s lips with a touch of uncertainty. Her fingers twirl around an absent piece of gold and sweep it gently from obscuring Clarke’s face.

 

Clarke’s eyes flash open. Nervousness is etched across Lexa’s features. Clarke doesn’t want to ruin the day before it has begun by forcing this conversation but she and her Omega must know the brutal truth of this new found haven with Lexa. She fixes her eyes on her Alpha – her voice equally uncertain.

 

“Am I yours because I am Omega – because I am for Trikru?” She unconsciously tilts her head away as if to shield herself from what may spring from Lexa’s tongue.

 

Lexa sobers immediately. Her brow furrowing; her lips pinching tight with the intensity. Clarke worries a lip between her teeth. The Alpha’s palms press against her cheeks and turn the blonde’s face towards her own. Her thumb ghosts across Clarke’s mouth.

 

“ _You_ , Klark, are _mine_.” Lexa’s voice is calm but fervent in its meaning. “ _You.”_

 

Clarke feels her Omega spike with hopeful anticipation and she cannot keep her lips from pulling into an unhindered smile over her teeth.

 

“Yun?” She whispers.

 

The Alpha’s nose flares as she watches Clarke’s mouth form the perfect Trigedasleng word. It sends a sparkling shot of adrenaline down the base of her vertebrae, pooling hot between her legs. 

Lexa’s vibrant green eyes are drawn from Clarke’s lips up to her warm blues; they are luminous like the shimmering waters of the Floukru oceans. She will take Clarke to see them one day.

 

Clarke finds a breathless understanding in Lexa’s study of her and it transforms into something visceral inside the Omega.

 

“ _Ain_.” The possessive meaning has never felt more deserving. The Alpha’s lips are slightly parted as she gazes at Clarke like the sun has already risen in the physical form of the Omega. She traces the calloused pad of her thumb over the softness of Clarke’s jaw; an action she finds great comfort in.

The Alpha guides her hand to the back of Clarke’s neck, entangling her slender fingers into golden curls. She deliberately moves into the blonde’s breathing space. Lexa’s breath is hot against Clarke’s mouth. She waits under hooded pools of endless green.

 

“Lexa?”

 

Clarke fully expects the Alpha to revert into her Heda counterpart – to startle as a small animal would and spring away – but Lexa remains. The Alpha brushes her nose against Clarke’s once again as if she is reacquainting herself with tenderness itself.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

She is soaking in the incessant rumbling of Clarke’s Omega with a sparkling green clarity and relief.

 

“I believe I have been sure since the moment I first caught you. It took a bit more running than anticipated but I am here now, Klark. I am yours.”

 

Clarke looks at the Alpha patiently lingering underneath her weight through naked eyes. Lexa’s expressive greens are wide with the honest vulnerability of her age – void of the empty unapproachability of Heda. Clarke presses her forehead against the older girl’s, breathing the trembling Alpha in as she closes her eyes and tries not to let the sensory overload swallow her whole.

 

"Yun, ai skaifaya."

 

Clarke's breath hitches as the Alpha’s hand reverently lingers over the skin above her heaving breast. The organ beneath is pounding away at an alarming rate – racing and swooping like a caged bird beating its wings in its confinement. Her heart feels as if it’s gasping for air through her bones and skin even though her lungs are already pulling in the warmth that Lexa gives to her freely.

 

Her Omega can sense Lexa’s eyes searching for her own.

 

Searching.

 

Searching and waiting.

 

In a smooth motion, Clarke eliminates the remaining distance between them and fashions the indescribable softness of Lexa’s parted mouth against her own. A phantasm of color erupts behind her eyelids. Lexa’s body shakes as her Alpha roars with fiery lightening inside her torso – her hands desperately pulling at Clarke to gain herself greater contact.

 

 _Yun, ain, yun, ain,_ is all that echoes between them.

 

As they move against one another, Clarke traps the Alpha inside her flying heart and in doing so, unknowingly offers it raw to the girl passionately devouring her Omega and all that falls in between.

 

Close eyed and breathless, she soars airborne into Lexa’s careful heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Ontari wipes the ragged looking cloth across her blade – the polish leaving a streak free sheen to the sword. Perfection is in the details - or is it the devil? She sits half perched in an alcove across from the throne room. The morning summons had come extra early this day. Ontari was used to routines such as this as she rose with the dawn, a common habit among Azgeda gonas. As she tucks the polish into her side pack and sheaths her short sword, the quickening of footsteps making their way down the corridor reaches her ears. The Azgeda Alpha leans back, hiding herself in the dim morning light.

 

Her eyes lock onto the silhouette of the Trishana leader, the woman is clearly in a mood and intent on entering the throne room just as early as Ontari’s own clan. The Ice wolf has only seen the Trishana leader once in passing and the woman had been riding away on horseback with the former Trikru Omega.

She seems to be the same in countenance and appearance from what her choppy remembrance can provide. The Trishana Alpha has a sharp jawline much like their great Heda’s. Her lips are less full but can project a wicked grin or snarl when challenged. Her aura is that which is expected of an Alpha – a bit cocky, powerful, and self confident.

 

So what has this normally composed wolf so flustered? _Pray tell us for the flourishing gossip of our tower,_ her wolf drawls.

 

Before the Trishana leader can reach the doorway of the throne room, a smaller woman, less muscular and smelling expressly of Omega – _the mate_ – grasps the Alpha’s wrist and pulls the leader around to face her pinched face. The turquoise green eyes of the Trishana Alpha flash at the fuming Omega as the bulk of her dark braid sweeps over her armored shoulder. A slight cautioning growl reaches Ontari’s perceptive ears.

 

A lover’s quarrel, perhaps?

 

The two Trishana wolves swap words in a fast and clipped dialect of southern Trigedasleng. The conversation is curt and mildly heated with each wolf glaring testily at the other. Finally, the sound of approaching delegates snaps the couple out of their tense bubble. 

The dark haired leader leans in close to the Omega’s ear and Ontari watches as the Omega’s pale eyes widen slightly and her chin lowers stiffly as the taller Alpha moves away. As the delegates of the Podakru and Sankru turn down the hallway, the Omega spins on her heel with the energy of a tempest and walks towards Ontari’s shadowy hiding place.

 

The red head huffs as she makes her timely way across the hall. Her overly sweet Omega scent – too syrupy for Ontari’s liking – is tinged with spits of bitterness. The woman pauses with clenched fists, and angles back to look at the receding throne room. The Trishana Omega stands stark and observes the weighty doors close with an almost longing expression for the other side.

 

“Trouble in paradise, sweetness?”

 

The sound of Ontari’s voice spooks the Omega and she jumps as her scent spikes in alarm. The Trishana wolf narrows her grey eyes and glares accusingly at Ontari as she hops down from her clandestine spot in the alcove.

 

“What—what were you doing there? _Spying?_ Or do you simply find amusement in other’s altercations?”

 

Ontari snorts and pushes a fallen braid behind her ear; the engraved beads are smooth against her skin. “Do not think to flatter yourself on my behalf; I was here long before your showy dispute with your mate. I harbor no interest for the inner workings of _your_ private life. Though you may wish to keep those matters hidden. The tower is not kind to those who are ignorant of its eyes and ears, Trishana.”

 

That seems to offend the Omega as Ontari feels the woman’s hackles rise in defense.

 

“I will not have _you_ preach to me, Azgeda mutt! _I_ am _Trikru_ – do not refer to me as anything else.”

 

This time Ontari grants the Omega an unbelieving chuckle and an equally accommodating grin.

 

“ _Forgive_ me, I meant no offense.” Her dramatic voice disagrees. “However, if you _are_ mated to the Trishana Alpha as that glaring mark on your neck indicates – you, my dear, are property and family to the mighty Trishana. I do not believe your mate would take kindly to the insulting of your own clan from that wicked mouth.”

 

“You know _nothing_ about my person or my mate.” The Omega hisses.

 

“I know enough, sweetness. After all, these _are_ the conditions of the deal that _you_ made.”

 

The Omega’s eyes widen in an uncoiled rage. She advances on the unfazed Azgeda wolf and snarls hotly in Ontari’s face.

 

“ _You_ should not speak of things you are clearly oblivious of, witless Ice _bitch_.”

 

“Oh sweetness, I may be many things – but _I_ am no one’s bitch, unlike those present who believe spreading their legs for half the tower will go unnoticed.”

 

The Trishana Omega lunges at Ontari.

 

A blurred form intercepts the Omega’s assault and shoves Ontari back into the stone wall. Hard. The corridor immediately becomes saturated with competing Alpha scents and the resentful bite of Omega. Ontari’s wolf, which has reacted to another’s, growls as the back of her head throbs in time with her heart.

 

“ _Kostia_ , I told you to go back to our floor.” A husky voice breaks the tension.

 

Ontari watches as the Trishana Alpha holds the Omega’s – _Costia’s_ – chin between her thumb and forefinger. The Alpha quickly scans over the Omega’s form. Ontari rolls her eyes – like she would waste her time beating up a spoiled Omega girl. 

Satisfied with her lack of findings, the Trishana wolf nips sharply at the mating bite on Costia’s neck. Costia huffs but stills as she seems to deflate. The Alpha waits a minute before releasing the Omega and lightly pushes her in the direction of corridor’s stairwell.

 

Once Costia is out of sight, the Trishana Alpha spins and slams Ontari back against the wall. Her head throbs anew. The Trishana woman’s forearm presses uncomfortably against Ontari’s windpipe as her other hand holds her shoulder to the stone. Up close, Ontari can honestly say this Alpha is one of the more attractive ones she has come across. Shit – her eyes are enough to draw anyone in. Freakishly blue with flecks of green. The Azgeda wolf would stare and admire more of this foreign wolf except she happens to like breathing, and sitting idly by while letting someone top her has never been her style.

Ontari snarls crossly at the Trishana wolf and kicks out one of the woman’s legs. The forest Alpha dips as if falling, but grabs at Ontari’s coat at the last second to toss her unceremoniously to the floor before catching herself in a crouch. Ontari rolls into her own hunch and the two stare off – rumbling erupting from both of their chests.

 

The Trishana wolf bares her teeth. “Azgeda wolf, how dare you attack another Alpha's mate in the Commander’s tower.”

 

Ontari scoffs. “ _Jok ai_. I did _not_ touch a single, dark lock on your precious Omega’s head. We merely had a verbal disagreement and she reacted poorly. Perhaps _you_ should _train_ her better.”

 

Ontari grins as the Trishana wolf bristles and makes to charge her. Ontari has dug her heels into the floor in preparation for such a tactic. Echo makes the same impulsive mistakes, and if the arch of the Trishana leader’s shoulders follows through, then so will this naïve Alpha wolf. If Azgeda training has beat anything into Ontari over the years, it’s that leader or no – every wolf can be defeated if they lose focus of the situation at hand and abandon control for emotion. 

As the Trishana Alpha lunges forward, Ontari lowers her body in anticipation of the woman’s first strike. A moment goes by and nothing happens. Ontari shifts her heels and tips back as to not lose her balance. In the split second she looks down to steady herself, Ontari loses sight of the Trishana wolf and the abrupt crack of landing knocks the air from her lungs in a tight burst of pain.

 

Ontari sucks in a choked breath that does nothing but create a pathetic gasp for air. She coughs as the ceiling comes into clear view, followed by the outstretched arm of the Trishana Alpha. The woman is smiling down at the Ice Ambassador as if Ontari had not been snarling viciously at her about training her mate just a few minutes prior.

 

“Perhaps I should, Ontari kom Azgeda.”

 

Stunned, Ontari eyes the Trishana leader warily and almost seethes when the woman rolls those blue-green eyes and latches onto Ontari’s forearm. With a firm hold, she hoists Ontari onto her feet and promptly punches her shoulder.

Ontari stares dumbfounded at this Alpha as the taller woman barks out a laugh. She can’t help but feel a bit lost in this turn of events. Her wolf has no suggestions for proceeding – beyond ‘with caution’ – firmly in place. She huffs as the Trishana woman grins back at her in jest.

 

“Come now - do not be sour, Ice pup. You'll ruin the morning and it has barely even begun; it is all in good sport.”

 

“I am _no_ pup, Trishana wolf.” Ontari quips. She wants to scoff and maybe offer this woman a crude gesture for good measure. This Trishana Alpha cannot be more than three seasons older than herself.

 

“Ah! So your puckish voice has _not_ failed you after all. Here I was worried I had gone and left you mute.”

 

Witty banter. Two can play at this game. Ontari offers a toothy smile back – the jaunty nature of this Alpha wolf is easily attracting her own. “Not with moves like those, _old_ dog.”

 

“Hmph, they seemed adequate enough to prompt you onto your Azgeda ass, Ice pup.”

 

Ontari actually releases a genuine laugh at this comment. It surprises her.

 

“Are you not going to beat me into the ground and threaten my life for upsetting your mate?”

 

The Trishana wolf eyes her under a coltish brow; the pale light of the sun making her blue eyes reflect flecks of green. “Do I need to?”

 

“Not likely. I spoke true preceding our lovely morning tumble.”

 

The dark haired woman snorts as she runs a hand over the beginnings of the impeccable singular braid at her scalp and deftly plays with the feathers nestled there. She sighs. “I believe you. Kostia has a rather _demanding_ personality. She likes to believe she can finish the fights she seems to blaze into with an expert’s skill.”

 

The Trishana Alpha boldly extends her arm towards Ontari. The woman’s larkish floral scent mixed with saturated moss evens into an unthreatening pulse. “Forgive her – Kostia’s displeasure rests with me.”

 

Ontari accepts the gesture for what it is and clasps her hand around the Alpha’s forearm. “I am Ontari kom Azgeda, the Azplana’s Ambassador to Polis.”

 

The forest wolf offers a dazzling smile. Her elvish features exhibiting only mirth. “I know.” The Alpha drops Ontari’s arm and turns to begin the walk back to the throne room.

 

Ontari shuffles to straighten her jacket and briskly walks after the spirited woman. “And what is your given name, leader of the great Trishana?”

 

The leader glances back over her shoulder with a bright glint in her turquoise eyes. “Ai laik Dahlia kom Trishana. Remember that, ice pup, and you won’t find your spry self on your back unless you wish to.” The dark haired Alpha sends Ontari a playful wink before crossing the threshold to the great hall of Heda’s throne room. 

Ontari gapes as the doors begin to close before remembering herself and halting the descent with her arm. She snorts and shakes her head at being on the receiving end of a rather smooth barb before clenching her jaw and entering the throne room to stand by the rigid form of her Queen and the two delegates from their clan. She can feel their auras bringing a frigid static to their side of the room. It is familiar and grounding.

 

They wait until the doors burst open in a flurry and the brisk clip of Heda’s heels announce her arrival and the start of another long, repetitive, morning of bickering old men. Ontari casts a glance over at the Trishana wolves, spotting them easily adjacent to her own clump. Dahlia catches her wandering gaze and smirks as Heda ascends to her throne and calls out the habitual greeting that precedes every gathering. 

Ontari’s attention snaps to the Commanding Alpha enshrined by the sea of ancient antlers projecting from the weathered throne of their people. The energy pulsing off of the seated Alpha is stifling in its intensity. It feels wrong; utterly too potent to be contained by one single wolf. It has Ontari drawing her chin steadily down to her chest before she can realize the submissive action. Her eyes inconspicuously flit around the great hall under lowered lids. Delegates, both Alpha and Beta alike, are shuffling under the irregular weight.

 

So she is not the only one affected. _Good._

 

Her musings are cut short as the Azgeda delegate to her immediate right stiffens. She can hear the man gulp audibly as he stares straight into the panning eyes of their Heda. Ontari’s lip almost curls in distaste at his show of weakness in front of the kongeda and more importantly their Kwen.

 

Heda’s piercing stare targets her next.

 

When Ontari meets the other girl’s gaze, a caustic charge shoots pointedly down the intricate line of nerves in her spine. Ontari’s brow twitches in response to this foreign reaction. Her wolf snarls in a frenzied panic inside her chest at this unknown. She cannot retract her eyes from staring unwillingly into the blackened green oblivion of Heda’s stare. A cold sweat breaks out along the nape of her neck. With a sickening insight, she realizes that she is _afraid._

 

Heda does not waver in her scrutiny.

 

The back of her skull throbs once more when the episodic pangs of confusion transform into a consuming dread as Ontari’s eyes widen. She can’t blink. Her eyes burn. A bead of sweat rolls past her collar to slide quickly down the length of her numbed spine. Her nostrils flares. Air barely makes it into her lungs. 

The image of Heda has never resonated with anything but power and meant only a title to attain, but now – Ontari’s throat cinches in on itself – _now_ , she has the overwhelming, gut-wrenching feeling that she is not merely standing before the eyes of a seated Alpha wolf – but before the transcendent eyes of a living God. Is this the true manifestation of Heda; is this the power of the Moon’s gift to her children?

 

Something has changed in their Heda. _What in the name of the great spirit could cause this?_

 

Blinding hues of white and yellow threaten to swallow Heda upon her throne as Ontari’s eyes begin to water under the resplendent force of the sun’s light. The deadlock between her wolf and Heda’s passes in the breadth of an exhale as Ontari feels her constricted chest finally expand and fill with a much needed full bellied gulp of air. She has been released from Heda’s inspection. Her eyes jerk away to the floor. Her mind rebels against the knowledge that this intense raid of her faculties occurred in the span of a few seconds.

 

The Trikru Alpha finishes her tour of the room and cants her head to her left at the flustered Beta Advisor.

 

The Fleimkepa steps forward to speak.

 

Ontari retreats inside herself and attempts to disguise a shaky sigh as a bored yawn.

 

_And so it truly begins._

 

* * *

 

  

Clarke hastily makes her way back to her chambers, relishing the thought of a bath and a fresh change of clothes. The loss of the heavy cloak of Lexa coating her will be missed terribly by her Omega.

When she had mentioned her plans to the Alpha as they grudgingly rose from the furs and each other, Lexa’s eyes had dilated as her wolf instantly wished to object. She hadn’t wanted her dominant musk to leave Clarke either and that sent a giddy rush down her person.

 

However, Lexa had found a happy alternative. Before allowing the Omega to leave, the brunette had pulled Clarke close and emitted a flux of pheromones against the underside of her jaw where the Alpha knew her scent would linger even after a cleanly wash. Clarke had allowed the action and murmured the Alpha’s name affectionately in praise. 

She pressed her fingers to the pungent spot on her neck and smiled. If she had to be away from Lexa for a prolonged period, at least having her scent this close would due until they were reunited.

 

She never thought she would be in this position – awake with her wolf flowing in torrents through her veins, soon to be mated to a beautiful Alpha whom she had come to depend on and tentatively trust with her heart and her well being. That aspect in itself was a frightening thing. Since the loss of her people – of her friends and family – she had expected her defensive nature to flare and pull her away from any form of human comfort in this alien culture. 

The awakening of her wolf changed everything. Suddenly, the common behaviors she generally posed to protect herself crumbled and left her unarmed against the earth and its people.

 

The helplessness she carried since the Chase ate at her every night and bit away at her during the daylight hours; it pecked at her like scavengers upon carrion. If Anya hadn’t forced her into roughening her hands and baiting the white wolf trapped inside – well, Clarke didn’t care to think about what kind of remains she would have become.

 

The blonde shook herself from that depressing thought – it hadn’t come to pass that way. There was no reason to dwell on the ‘what if's’ of the past.

 

She is here now, and in better shape emotionally and physically than she had ever been. This was her focus now. And perhaps after that was settled, she could begin to look back at her time among the stars and aboard the Ark. For now, she tucked her memories away – thinking of her father and her friends hurt too much to dredge up. No more what ifs.

 

The Omega nods to the Beta guards stationed out side her room as she enters the spacious room.

 

Almost immediately she is tackled by a blur of brown and a youthful Beta squeal.

 

“Klark, You’re back! I was so worried!”

 

Clarke stumbles a bit but steadies herself as she adjusts her arms to circle around Tris’ back. The younger girl hugs her tight until the harsh scent of Alpha causes her nose to scrunch and she pulls back with a disgruntled sound that verges on gagging.

 

“Yu _sen foto,_ Klark (You _stink_ , Clarke). You need a bath.”

 

Clarke chuckles and ruffles the shorter Beta’s hair, mindful of her braids. “Sha, I am back. I’m glad too see you as well, Tris.”

 

The girl looks up to the Omega with a toothy grin before settling into a more controlled countenance. “Are you well, Klark? Do you need food? Water?”

 

“A bath would be lovely – as you said – I _clearly_ stink. Would you like to share lunch with me afterwards? I plan to soak for a little while. Being unconscious for three days does wonders for the body.”

 

Tris looks at her as if she is insane before Clarke nudges the girl with her elbow. “Loosen up little gona, it’s a joke. I would be glad for your company if you don’t have any plans for lunch. The choice is up to you.”

 

Tris’ eyes light up at Clarke’s new nickname for her and the offer. Clearly Clarke made the right assumption about the girl’s aspirations.

 

Tris nods earnestly and claps her hands together. “Rest easy, Klark. I will ready your bath and come for you.”

 

Clarke thanks the Beta and wonders into her sleeping quarters. She moves to the wardrobe and selects a suitable pair of pants and a light tunic for the morning air is warmer than she remembers, but the breeze wafting in through the large balcony is refreshing. 

After a time, Tris announces her bath is ready and leaves Clarke to strip and leisurely enter the warm waters scented with lavender and honey. The additional scents of the water and the soaps will not mute her own or that of the Alpha’s thick on her throat. As she washes, she makes sure to stay clear of the area. She does not wish to diminish Lexa’s presence on her skin.

 

Clarke closes her eyes and sinks into the rejuvenating waters. Her muscles loosening as the heat seeps into her skin and minor aches.

 

When she reopens her eyes, the sun is high in the sky. She must have fallen asleep. Her fingers are a pruned mess which confirms her hypothesis. Clarke clamors out of the tub as gracefully as she can to dry and dress herself.

She walks into her main chambers and sees Tris setting up plates and arranging a bounty of foods on the wooden table before the balcony. The Beta whips her head up when she catches a whiff of Clarke’s scent. Her nose still scrunches a bit but she doesn’t say anything more.

 

“This looks wonderful, Tris. Thank you.”

 

“It’s my duty to serve you, Klark. You don’t have to thank me for fulfilling my responsibilities.”

 

“No, perhaps not, but your effort should be acknowledged when it is warranted.”

 

Tris stops sorting the various fruits and meats to eye Clarke curiously. Clarke continued to surprise her. It was a nice feeling.

 

The Beta smiles as a blush creeps up her neck. She swallows and gets back to dishing out their meal.

 

Tris hands Clarke a plate piled with every parcel of the food pyramid. She accepts gratefully and plops down onto a thick fur rug on the floor. Tris gapes at her when Clarke pats the spot beside her.

 

“Sit with me. It’ll be like a picnic, and we have a wonderful view.”

 

Tris eagerly snatches her plate and a jug of water that she sets between them before curling her legs underneath her body as she situates herself on the fur rug. The Beta pops a grape into her mouth. “I have never been on a picnic before.”

 

Clarke turns to face the Beta girl as she rips a chunk of wheat grained bread in half. “Me either.”

 

Tris feels a sense of pride and camaraderie that Clarke would choose to share this first experience with someone like her – merely one of Polis’ many orphans that has no lasting future ahead.

 

“So, tell me all that has gone on since my untimely demise.” Clarke sprouts sarcastically before devouring the other half of her bread.

 

Tris frowns slightly at the casual way Clarke speaks of her end but chooses to gloss over that for now. “I am not one for gossip, Klark, but there are some things even I cannot overlook.”

 

Clarke hears the weight of Tris’ words and sets her plate onto the rug. She debates on whether or not to offer physical comfort to encourage the Beta. When Tris looks up to her, she nods with a half smile towards the girl and that seems to be enough for Tris to continue.

 

“You were very ill, Klark.” Tris gulps. “Everyone was talking about it. They all said that your fight was going to be over. I didn’t believe them.”

 

The fervid passion in the Beta’s voice is not missed. She throws caution to the wind and rests her hand lightly on Tris’ shoulder. The girl glares up at her, not with anger but with a fire that speaks only in her defense.

 

“They did not know the strength in you, Klark. I knew you would not die. I _knew!”_

 

A lump forms in her throat and Clarke desperately tries to quell the urge to cry. “You did know, Tris. Even I didn’t, but you did.”

 

Tris nods with a furrowed brow and tense chin. The Beta swipes a cut of meat from her plate and bites viciously into the morsel before stuffing the rest into her mouth. She seems to chew out her residual tension on the issue. Once she swallows she looks much better – a bit calmer and the hardness in her eyes has lightened considerably.

 

“You cannot disappear, Klark.” A desperate plea rests in the young girl's eyes.“Yu na ge mema we (You will be missed).” 

 

The Beta's murmurs are a bit difficult for Clarke to make out. Her knowledge of Trigedasleng is still a bit shaky but for the most part she understands what Tris is communicating. The Omega squeezes Tris’ shoulder comfortingly and offers her a wide grin. “I don’t plan on it. I trust that you can protect me, little gona.”

 

Tris beams at her, and just like that the static in the air has lifted and the comfortable afternoon breeze sweeps over the duo.

 

“How are Ryder and Lincoln?”

 

The jerky in the Beta’s hand freezes on its journey to the her mouth, and Tris fidgets with the meat in her juice coated fingers.

 

“Tris.” Clarke’s voice has a bit of an edge to it.

 

“They are seasoned Trikru warriors, Klark. They can take the punishment given to them and handle it with honor - and silence.” Tris stuffs the jerky into her mouth to allow her words to sink in.

 

“So their injuries _are_ bordering on the severe.” Clarke had suspected as much when Anya had visited her and told of her guards’ admonishment. The Beta General would not go any further in explanation and that worried Clarke. Even if Lincoln and Ryder disobeyed orders, Clarke still felt for them – she almost considered Lincoln a friend. She did not wish either of them harm.

 

Tris nods.

 

“Are they healing?”

 

“Sha, Klark. The lashings were the worst of it. The bullwhip has a nasty bite but Nyko and his healers excel at their craft. They will heal and I doubt that Linkon will scar.”

 

 _Lashings_. _Scarring?_ Clarke tries very hard not to cringe.

 

“And how do they look?”

 

Tris raises a brow at her inquiry. Ryder and Lincoln were Clarke’s guards and they failed at their duty - a duty to protect an Omega. They put Clarke in mortal danger. In Tris' opinion they deserved more than the General had ordered be done to them. Clarke prompts Tris back into the conversation with a flighty wave in her direction.

 

“So when I see them, it’s not as much of a shock. How bad do they look, Tris?”

 

The Beta understands. “Ryder received the worst of it. His brothers nearly shattered his jaw during his reckoning and two of his lashings were dealt with the General's weapon - the steel whip. Ryder and Linkon both sustained a few cracked ribs, and probably a dislocated shoulder too.” Tris stops when she notices how still Clarke has gotten – her face is a pale shade of green and eyes are lost in a faraway concentration. The Beta bites her lower lip and reaches out to grab Clarke’s wrist so the Omega will look at her.

When she has Clarke’s full attention. “They _will_ be fine, Klark. They are already back to post duty on the lower levels.” Tris does not completely understand Clarke’s deep concern for her guards. Tris is ashamed of them, but Clarke looks sad and if offering her some information about Lincoln and Ryder will make her happy again, then Tris will give it.

 

Clarke places her hand on top of Tris’ and gives her a look that expresses her gratitude. They go back to their picnic lunch and talk of lighter things as the clouds shift into wisps and pudgy cotton lumps above them. Clarke listens to the Beta animatedly talk of having the greatest honor of viewing the Trikru General perform routine stances with the newest recruits.

She smiles at the girl's enthusiasm and her mind slowly wanders to her own Trikru gona - brown hair and viridian eyes flashing in her mind.

 

 

 **TBC**  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those interested - Anya's famed weapon, the steel whip, is also known as the Urumi.
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'Fuck With Myself' by BANKS
> 
> and
> 
> 'Sweet Ophelia' by Zella Day


	19. By The Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I've been fighting with my insurance over some hospital bills from forever ago and it's a nightmare - it all really sours the mood for creativity. I'm just in a terrible funk from it all. It sucks. :/
> 
> That being said - I am going on a bit of a break. Life is just acting up too much for my mind to wrap around punching out what I need to happen to write this story. I will not abandon it, and it will be finished but this is my official notice that the updates 2x a week are over.
> 
> [Will edit this monster chapter after some sleep. Also I'm a liar since I gave you guys more fluff, but it went with the plot so whatever, don't question it.]
> 
> Chapter Summary:
> 
> Clexa go to the market. Fluff everywhere.
> 
> Titus has issues.
> 
> Gustus in Tondisi.
> 
> More fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and Kudos always welcome!
> 
> Updates : Twice a week unless otherwise noted.

** Nineteen **

 

 

She is in a sense of constant discovery.

 

Her wolf laps at the sights and sounds around her. Clarke smiles widely and happily as she eagerly scurries from one merchant stall to another, completely enthralled by the spectrum of items in startling definition through her wolf’s eyes. 

Lexa can only stand back, hands calmly clasped behind her as she watches the blonde riffle through trinkets and bobbles while chatting animatedly with the shop owners and even some of the other customers who are not too intimidated by the sight of their Heda overseeing their movements. The scent of Omega and the rare meeting of one has overshadowed most of her people’s fears regarding the girl’s Alpha guardian. Lexa cannot blame the wolves of Polis for their curiosity and their peaked interest.

 

She feels it acutely with each new breath.

 

Clarke’s Omega is like an enchanting siren beckoning ships passing along the waves of a great sea. It draws Lexa in without complaint or thought or reason. Her Alpha is docile and content to lay under the blonde’s intoxicating presence and blanketing shroud of safety. The Alpha itemizes every unhindered smile, every excited glance and pull of giddy fingers on her wrist into that reserved box that kept everything ‘Clarke’ protected within.

 

Lexa can not help the soft quirk of her own lips as the Omega verbally gushes over a potter creating a vase; twirling and spinning the clay gracefully on his skilled, muddied fingers as they shaped the bowl dip of the body and swiveled high to stretch out the curving neck. Clarke had praised the man’s talent vehemently. The potter had laughed kindly at her enthusiasm and offered to show her how the wheel produced his work. Clarke – of course – had nodded jubilantly and barked out a laugh when the slick clay passed smoothly under the pads of her fingertips. Clarke had handled the clay with a delicacy and patience as to respect the effort potter’s expert work. She had even squealed in glee when the man applied the watered down slip over her fingers, the cold texture a surprising discovery needed to round off the edges of the vase. Clarke’s childlike delight is contagious and the potter chuckles.

Lexa had offered the beaming potter a few coins for his geniality before her attention was drawn to another stall across the street where Clarke was already perusing through a countless variety of writing tools – pencils of every color. As the blonde had sped through the selection, she turned back momentarily to connect her gaze with Lexa’s.

 

The Alpha nods her acknowledgement of Clarke’s location change with the grace of a smile upon her lips. Her wolf would have been able to find Clarke easily through the Omega's scent alone, but the fact that Clarke wished for Lexa to see her is welcome and warms her chest.

 

Here in the part of the city filled with artisans and craftsmen, here in Lexa’s clan, Clarke is thriving. Her Omega subconsciously reaching out to those around her, drawing them into her vivacious appetite for knowledge and sincere company. She is not above helping an elderly Beta woman with clouded eyes pick out the best apples in a bunch, or stopping to pick up a pup that had skidded by too hastily and clumsily tripped over his own front paws. It is the acts such as this that make Clarke – Clarke. They pull Lexa to her.

 

 _She is spectacular_ , her heart sings, _and_ _she is mine_.

 

Lexa can not stop herself from watching her future mate; the Alpha within is deriving her own enjoyment from seeing it spread across the blonde’s features.

 

Lexa is not even threatened or truly bothered by the heavy presence of Alphas immersed in the ample streets. Clarke makes sure never to leave her sight and calls her name often, constantly running back to Lexa to drag the Alpha to a specific source of amusement or new found wonder. Clarke points out what caused her captivation of the moment and explains all that she has learned while Lexa silently listens – charmed by the passion in the Omega’s voice and sincerely proud of her people’s work to cause such a reaction. She wants Clarke to be impassioned. She wants the blonde to come to cherish Polis as much as Lexa has grown to. 

On various occasions, the Alpha even caught herself leaning forward with the urge to brush her lips against Clarke’s forehead, and the desire to entangle her fingers with the blonde’s as they walk down the roads between the market stalls together.

 

Though no one would vocally call Heda out on such affectionate acts, the open publicness of such a display would not be appropriate for one as becoming as Heda – especially while the reality of the challenges hung ponderously above their heads, and definitely not in the presence of her guards.

 

However, being Heda does not stop Lexa from pulling Clarke into a shaded and unpopulated alley away from watchful eyes. It does not stop her from cupping Clarke’s glowing face in her palms to place feather light kisses across her flushed cheeks and at the corners of her mouth while the blonde tries not to laugh at her antics. Lexa feels an abundance of joy swell under her breast at the pure sound.

 

This girl from the stars is unmaking her at the seams; she savors every minute of it and finds herself craving more.

 

 _This is precious_ , her heart whispers.

  

* * *

  

Anya eyes her Heda and the Omega from afar, content to supervise this little outing as she lazy tosses an apple from one hand to the other. Her wolf can not help but puff up with pride at her seken accepting the natural bond between herself and Clarke. She was sure she would have had to wallop her former pupil a few more times about her small ears before Lexa would acknowledge that she even had the capacity to feel genuine affection for another again. The General was glad she had found suitable excuses to keep Heda far from Titus these past hours.

 

 _Titus._ The Beta’s mood sours a fraction at the Fleimkepa’s name.

 

His influence over Lexa’s mind will be a detriment to her imprinting with Clarke. He would have Lexa believe having the human ability to feel was a preposterous notion for a Heda – that the idea of imprinting was impossible for her wolf; just a mere myth untrained wolves use to explain their lack of self control. What the man failed to see was how deeply Lexa already cared for Clarke – how deeply Lexa cared for all of her people.

 

Lexa’s ability to feel was a vital reason the Alpha made such a revolutionary Heda. Why Titus refused to see this truth remained unclear to the General – it was obvious to her. Then again she had nurtured her connection with Lexa where Titus had not, at least not in a way that gained him more than Heda’s attention.

In Lexa’s youth, Anya had also warned a more naïve Lexa of the dangers of falling in love blindly, of extravagant courtships and even the possibility of taking a mate for herself. She had to expose the risks of leadership to her seken and the personal costs that had the uncertainty to follow. For someone of Heda’s station, it was natural that any entanglements she chose to share ran the hazard of being used against her. The Omega, Costia, proved to be the golden example of those wicked opportunities. Titus had never failed to remind Lexa of it – it had hardened her seken.

 

Where Anya had cautioned the wounded Alpha to tread lightly in future matters of her heart, Titus rubbed salt into the hemorrhaging organ and bade Heda to rip it out entirely. He encouraged Heda to close herself off from everything that made her Lexa. It had sickened the Trikru General to see it actually taking hold.

His current views on Heda taking an Omega mate were unsurprising; purely motivated by gain and advancement – a ‘political and sensible move’ if Anya recalled his words correctly from this morning’s council.

 

_Pompous ass._

 

At a flash of golden hair, the Beta General straightens and drops the healthy apple into the hands of a young Alpha boy with hazel dusted hair before patting his head and moving to follow Clarke’s trail. She spies Lexa narrowly pulling the blonde aside into a nearby alleyway, just out of sight of her guards. 

Anya smirks and shakes her head knowingly, chuckling softly under her breath. It was good to see Lexa this way; enjoying life and actually allowing herself to behave her age – to behave as a young woman entertaining a bit of fun with one she cared for, if only for a minute. Lexa seemed lighter, stronger, more sure of herself than she had in years.

 

It was refreshing.

 

Anya watches as the pair of amorous wolves attempt to inconspicuously extricate themselves from the alley, both a bit flushed and glowing as if the skaiprisa truly held a star within her that she shared freely with Lexa.

The Beta pauses as she hears Lexa laugh – a light, airy ring of radiant happiness – a rarity that she has not heard from her seken since she was a scrawny, stubborn Alpha pup stumbling over her own feet. The euphoric sound does not go unnoticed. Merchants and shoppers turn their heads thoughtfully to view their Heda’s indulgence.

 

The General wishes that Gustus had not yet left for Tondisi so he may observe this side of their Heda – she knows he looks upon Lexa as a ward of sorts; a daughter even. He would find true contentment in the fact that Lexa was among her people again – living among them.

Anya smiles and leans against a supporting pole of a fruit vendor as Clarke grasps at the Alpha’s wrists to tote her further down the market place. Lexa is looking at Clarke as if the blonde has told her that she knows the secret to the very cosmos. The Alpha is smiling as if she does not even care to hear the answer just as long as Clarke keeps guiding her down the streets of Polis.

 

She is shining as brightly and intensely as any Alpha Anya has ever seen, and then the Beta knows—

 

“Kom Natshana (By the Moon).” She murmurs under her breath.

 

“Leksa laik ona hodnes (Lexa is in love).”

  

* * *

  

Titus huffs irritably at his desk. Papers shuffle between his hands before he drops them messily onto the wood before peevishly sweeping them from the surface and onto the floor. His chambers are filled with the mid afternoon light and a soothing breeze that always seems to be about the Polis tower. A sight and sensation that should be calming and sustaining to his duties for the rigorous hours ahead. He cannot concentrate as he should – his wolf is still on edge, pacing uneasily behind his eyes. The recounting of details from the early morning gathering will not stop falling like pebbles into the tranquil pond of his mind, rippling through his every thought in disruptive waves.

 

The distraction is grating.

 

There are matters he must attend to that require the fullness of his intellect; Gustus being dispatched to Tondisi the day before without his knowledge for example.

And yet, Heda continues to fill his wolf with agitation. Her wolf’s presence in the throne room as she entered with unbridled Alpha radiating from her, when she had scanned the kongeda with a prodigious intensity – it had stunned his senses. He should not be so astounded by her power as Lexa was the embodiment of the spirit of Heda – but he could not deny that it left him wary of the abrupt fluctuation.

 

This development, should it be permanent, could be a great boon to the vitality of her legacy and secure her rule over the kongeda.

 

He remembers Heda’s vision to unite the clans during her proposal of the kongeda; the idea had always seemed herculean – colossal in the effort the young Alpha would need to complete such a feat. Titus had entertained her youthful dreams but left them as they were meant to be – dreams. Then Lexa had ridden out against advisement to the various clans and proven herself to the clan leaders. One by one, she found support under her pledge provide an unassailable kongeda where all pakstoka would be welcomed in Polis, where aid would always be given to those who required it, and justice would be met at the hands of all the kongeda should any clan be attacked. They would fight and die as one pack; as one absolute strength – as one wolf.

Her passion and Alpha strength called to all the wolves as she spoke – her presence as Heda could not be denied. Heda was vicious and she was merciful. The people flocked to the Alpha; they believed in Heda’s spirit and ran towards her vision of unification.

 

Titus received her reports of the growing kongeda with disbelief and then with eagerness. The spirit must have looked down upon the Alpha’s dreams with grace and blessed her with visions of the future. At once, he had sent out message after message aiding her knowledge of clans and terrain – providing his Heda with every advantage to use at her disposal. 

Polis flooded with the hordes of blending clansmen; the diversity of the cultures flourished in the city and trade immediately spiked into a living, breathing entity. As Fleimkepa, he had welcomed newly arrived delegates and wolves of royal and ancient blood lines into the Commander’s tower while Heda was securing clan after clan under her banner.

 

He kept the various leaders or their representatives satisfied and docile by whatever means he saw fit. He would not disrupt the balance his Heda had set into motion. He would care for the workings beneath the surface so that the spirit of Heda could focus on her destiny – the creation of the kongeda. 

It was more than he could have ever hoped for. The pieces fell into place perfectly – almost perfectly until they hit the blockade that was the Azgeda and the Azplana’s allied forces. The ‘Kru kom Jus (Clans of the blood)’ – the rebel clans – they were called throughout Polis; titles they earned well. The cruel months that followed were torturous and decimating – the numbers of butchered gonas ran the fields red with blood. Heda had been at a loss – livid and unyielding in her cause but ultimately disheartened by the slaughter of the very people she had hoped to protect. Their progress faltered and the campaign halted to a stand still – neither side relinquishing their foothold.

 

Then a deal was struck.

 

Heda returned victorious, and the kongeda was finalized.

 

Perfection.

 

Titus lifts his head from resting atop the back of his hands. He claps once loudly as a page boy, an apprenticed scribe perhaps, bolts from around the corner of the doorway. Titus gestures to the floor with a flick of his wrist and the boy immediately bends and scrambles to collect the scattered papers. Titus takes them from the Beta boy and sends the lad to fetch the capital’s Bellman. He will relay the terms of Heda’s claim and the kongeda’s decision regarding the Summit, challenges included, to the man so that he may in turn announce the news to the wolves of Polis this evening.

 

Once announced here in Polis, the information would spread like wildfire throughout the lands.

 

He shall have to remember to include the news of the Boudalan General’s demise and scheduled pyre. The fact that one clan had already been knocked out of the competition would do well to aid Heda’s reputation. He must paint her victory as a complete obliteration of the competition – that should give the masses something to gossip about for some time and others to fear for future instigations. He will say nothing of the Omega’s involvement. The power must rest with the Alpha – with his Heda.

Moving to the grandeur of his balcony view, Titus places his palms along the cool stone as he admires the feel of the smooth sculpted railing.

 

The Omega was becoming a rising issue to note.

 

The Skai girl had been since the nature of her arrival – the fact that she was Omega had saved her in his mind from swift annihilation at Heda’s hand. The fact that the kongeda had another Omega amongst them was a blessing in itself. The following report that Heda had claimed the unmated Omega was even more satisfying. A gift sent by the Moon to be granted to Heda’s spirit – Titus had never felt more pride in his faith to the keryon kom Natshana.

 

His grip tightens over the railing. Then the Omega fell ill, and something untouchable yet profound shifted in the tower.

 

His own wolf had felt the twinge of _something_ – a call of sorts that reached inside his mind and brought forward a foreign rush of emotion; mainly concern for this creature’s well being. When Heda had sped past the Trikru General and himself on the way to her chambers with the Omega girl unconscious in her arms, he had felt his wolf shove at his legs to follow her. _Her_ – not his Heda but the Omega withering in the Alpha’s hold.

 

The call of the distressed Omega girl almost overpowered Heda’s Alpha. Beside him, Titus had felt the spike of the Trikru General’s fear and desperation – the howl of her wolf as a burst of protective pheromones left the Beta woman. Titus had had to pinch himself to stop his own Beta instinct to offer a calming aura. The urge was unbelievably strong – acute like a command from an Alpha, but more in the way of pleading that his wolf had to fight avidly to dispel its effects. 

One look from the General and Titus could see that she knew he had felt the straining pull to the Omega as well. Titus had cringed under the other Beta’s calculating eyes before they both moved to follow their Heda.

 

That particular decision had not ended well.

 

Titus rubbed subconsciously at the faint scar on his hand, remembering the sharp pain of Heda’s claws as she tossed him to the floor.

 

Afterward that fiasco he had dived into the meaning behind the Alpha’s changed demeanor as well as the temporary alteration of his own. He had read the stars and looked over scripture to find answers within to explain such an alien force of will to command another. Finding nothing, Titus had turned to any information documented on the skai Omega herself since her landing in the Mountain Valley. He had read the accounts of Heda’s journey from Tondisi to Polis, pausing on the brief text regarding the sudden push to shift of half of the Trikru pack and that many of the gonas reported an itch of despair that ignited their wolves into a frenzy. 

Titus had brushed the report off with an assumption that the gonas merely were battle weary and agitated by the unfulfilled call of a recent Omega in heat – possibly even the heated threat of ripas lingering in the area.

 

Now he was not so sure.

 

Perhaps the union between Heda and this Omega was too risky given this unknown development. If the Omega could influence Heda’s Alpha and the girl became aware of such a power – Titus shudders. The results could be cataclysmic to the kongeda and to Heda’s spirit.

The Beta lifts his chin under the warmth of the sun.

 

He will have to keep strict tabs on this Omega from the stars. 

 

Keep Heda from her if necessary. 

 

It would be in her best interests while the challenges remain as open possibilities in any case.

 

 _Enough of this_ , his wolf growls, _it will unfold as the Moon wills it. Let us see it through._

 

Titus turns back to his study and plants himself at his desk as a knock echoes into the room. He bids the visitor entrance. It is the Bellman.

 

Good.

 

It is back to business.

 

He straightens in his chair and flares his elbows out upon the surface of his engraved desk. The way his robes smooth out naturally under his movements is pleasing and familiar.

As the Bellman approaches, Titus lifts his chin in a manner indicating his status in this room despite the Bellman’s Alpha presence. The Alpha dips his chin and waits for the Fleimkepa’s orders. Once the man is dispatched, Titus calls for a guard to request the location of Heda. 

When the guard relays Heda’s whereabouts, Titus is fuming. _Heda_ – the Commander of the twelve clans, traipsing out on the streets of Polis like some _commoner_ ; being dragged around by the Omega girl.

 

Titus slams the doors to his study and glares at the wood beneath his hands. This news is most distressing.

 

Heda’s spirit is not some plebian wolf to be used to cater to this girl’s every whim. The Omega is a means to achieve secure peace – Heda knows this – she should not indulge the girl like a heart-sick pup simply for the pleasantness of her scent and what lies between her legs.

 

He can _not_ allow this behavior to continue.

  

* * *

 

 

It is early evening when Gustus hauls himself from the saddle of his black mount. The horse is agitated from their impromptu ambush by rogue ripas and tosses his head as his master’s feet crunch heavily upon the soil of the Tondisi land. The village is bustling with life, but not in the manner the weathered Captain of the Guard expects.

 

Carts laden with the trappings of a home – piles of chairs, furniture, blankets and clothing – line the street before him. Gustus passes off his horse to a gona in his traveling party as he walks determinedly through the gates and onto the main road leading to the center of the village. A number of shops have been boarded up and appear to have been sacked – or abandoned. The Captain narrows his eyes – his wolf on edge. The Trikru leader would never allow such acts of vandalism in her village. His furrowed brow falls upon a struggling shop keeper – a furrier by the looks of the overflowing product in his arms. 

The Alpha man stumbles down the last step of his shop’s entrance, nearly tripping over his own feet as the pile of furs in his hold tower above his own head and tip precariously to the side. Before Gustus takes a step to aid the man, a slender Beta girl – a dirty blonde and tall, perhaps a year or two older than Lexa – steadies the Alpha shopkeeper as she grasps his forearms.

 

“Nontu, kefa beja (Father, careful please). There is no need to rush; Tondisi still stands this day.”

 

The furrier merely grunts and hauls his deposit onto a wagon stationed in front of his shop. “Today perhaps, my daughter, but one day soon it will fall. Em Maun set raun kom nou pakstoka (The Mountain waits for no wolf).”

 

The Beta girl pinches the bridge of her nose with pursed lips. Gustus keeps his distance but stays, intrigued by the information regarding the state of the village and Maun-de.

 

“The truth of that is still unknown. Perhaps you should not be so hasty to rid our family of their home.” Her voice is curt and easily speaks to her irritation.

 

The furrier stops settling the furs with a heavy sigh and turns dejectedly to face his daughter. His eyes are not angry for her outburst, only deeply saddened. “You have seen the fog’s reach, yongon. You have fought off your own share of increased ripas.” He places a large hand upon the girl’s shoulder.

 

“You _know_ why we must leave. Your nomon and your bro await my travels to the Floukru to be with your _komfoni_  (grandmother).”

 

The shopkeeper shudders dramatically. “You know I would not rush to greet that woman if I could help it, yongon.”

 

The girl looks up into her father’s eyes attempting to hide her own pain under a forced chuckle. “I do understand, nontu. I will miss you greatly.”

 

The man pulls the shorter Beta to his chest. “And I you, ai yujon (my strong one).” The two embrace for a few moments until the girl pulls away to wipe discretely at her eyes.

 

“I wish you safe travels on your journey, nontu.”

 

The Alpha walks to the front of the wagon, hoisting himself into the driver’s seat as his hands find the reigns. Once situated, he looks down to his daughter with an imploring expression.

 

“Will you not change your mind and accompany me? I do not wish to leave you so alone at that trading post.”

 

The girl smiles softly. “Just as you know you cannot stay – you must know that I cannot leave. My post is the only halfway point between Trikru and Azgeda. If I abandon it, there are those that would suffer. Do not worry so; I will weather this as I have all things – with the wits and the strength of my nontu.”

 

The Alpha man gazes down at the young woman with a furious pride and glossy eyes. His lips are pursed to keep his words in, and to accept his daughter’s. The girl reaches up from the ground and squeezes his knee under her hand. The furrier barks out a garbled laugh, his voice graveled in emotion as he grips his daughter’s hand beneath his own.

 

“I _will_ see you again. Ste yuj, Niylah (Stay strong).”

 

“Ste yuj, nontu.”

 

The Alpha clicks to his mount and the packed wagon lurches forward with a creaking of wooden wheels. The young woman, Niylah, watches with a raised chin as her father slowly disappears around the corner of the street. She knows he will be gone from Tondisi within minutes – possibly forever.

Gustus pulls himself away from the sight as the Trikru leader marches up to meet him. Indra has not changed much over the years. Her gait is still intimidating and confident, her shoulders pulled back to an almost severe straightness, and her face as serious as ever.

 

“Kom natshana, yu don kom au biga. (By the Moon, you have gotten fat).”

 

Gustus chokes back a scoff at the Trikru woman’s greeting and gruffly offers the Beta leader his forearm.

 

“Indra, blunt as always.”

 

The dark Trikru Beta squeezes his arm in welcoming before they drop and her hands clasp behind her back. She nods to him in respect despite her earlier jab.

 

“Gustos. I am pleased you have come. It was uncertain who would be sent from Polis.”

 

Gustus’ wolf bristles slightly. He knows Indra would rather have Heda, or perhaps even the Trikru General here to handle her reports but such is the way of delegation. He also knows her preference is not a slight against him; Indra knows his worth as they have fought beside one another through countless battle. The situation in Tondisi must truly be dire for Indra to infer that she required aid, especially aid directly from Heda to protect her own village.

The Alpha Captain glances off to his side towards Niylah who is still standing before her father’s closed shop in a somber cloud, her hands balled into tense fists at her side. Indra follows his gaze and huffs.

 

“Kyohn is a good man; his business will be missed.” Indra pauses. “My people are evacuating – they are leaving before the terrors of the Maun-de can reach us.”

 

Gustus turns sharply back to the Trikru Beta. The grim line of her lips and the crease to her brow confirms his worries.

 

“The Maunon are finally making their move.”

 

“Sha, and the first target has been determined.”

 

Tondisi will not hold much longer.

 

“Come, there is much that must be discussed. You require a hot meal and a place for that large belly of yours to rest. I warned you life in Polis would turn you soft.” The Trikru leader sets off towards the main hut at the center of Tondisi.

 

Gustus chuckles and follows after the prickly woman in stride. “My belly is still as fit as ever, Indra, but I will accept your offering for food as long as it is not you that has prepared it.”

  

* * *

 

Clarke cannot wipe the smile from her face - her cheeks are hurting from the strain of her euphoric grin. The afternoon spent with Lexa has been absolutely and irrevocably amazing; perusing the marketplace together, sharing in the world of Polis through enthused whispers and soft caresses within alleyways and under shaded corners.

 

Her Omega is simply glowing under her skin. She could feel the white wolf’s joy growing with every hidden smile Lexa sent her way, after every brush of their shoulders, or the way Lexa’s pinky would ensnare her own in the middle of the crowded market street. Lexa hadn’t minded her wandering feet either, not that she went far, but the Alpha seemed content to simply watch her experience the various merchant shops. That didn’t mean that Lexa was content to have her absent for long; the Alpha would periodically tug her aside to engulf her in her arms and coat her in the Alpha scent of her wolf. Clarke had wanted to tease Lexa about it but found the sensation of having her Alpha hold her close as her warm, musky scent covered her was too enjoyable to risk Lexa becoming embarrassed by it and pulling away.

The Alpha had showed Clarke a piece of her world; a piece that she wanted Clarke to find interest in and enjoy. The beat of her heart picked up at the thought that Lexa had done all of this for her – escorted Clarke around her city to make her happy and had stayed to feel that elation with the her.

 

Next the Alpha had led her to a more secluded spot of the city. Lexa had dismissed her guards with a sharp wave of her hand and placed it in a guiding manner onto Clarke’s lower back. Clarke had asked where Lexa was taking her, but the Alpha merely offered a sly smile at her secret and maneuvered Clarke down one street and over another onto a bridge. They walked through alleys and through passageways that Clarke had the distinct feeling were largely unknown to most of the population of Polis.

The perks of being Heda. 

When they had exited a particularly long passageway with strips of clothing hanging overhead, Lexa had taken her hand and pulled her out of the dark smell of mold and into the glowing orange light of the sunset illuminating a massive garden. Flowers of every sort were gushing in a state of full bloom. Small indigo petals covered an entire wall saturated in the tiny flower and a thick green moss. A brilliant red beauty with velvet soft petals wrapped in an intricate ring around the bud took over another section of the garden floor. Clarke looked on in awe as the red tapered into white and then a pale orange. She ran her fingertips over each new discovery, and laughed when her wolf nudged her into smelling the sweet petals from the source. After that, she had walked around aimlessly, burying her nose in a spectrum of floral smelling color.

 

When she had remembered herself and her kind escort, Clarke’s hand had dropped from a white spliced with purple, curling petal as her head whipped up to search for her Alpha. 

Clarke found Lexa leaning leisurely against a large trunk of an even greater tree with long willowy tendrils erupting from the branches; the tree looked as if it had grown its own full head of green leafed hair. The tree was a sight, but the look on Lexa’s face as Clarke approached her was on a level of its own. She had wanted to lean in right then and there and kiss the supple smile from the Alpha’s lips – so she did.

 

Clarke purrs as Lexa runs her fingers through Clarke’s hair as they sit side by side under the 'willow tree' – as Lexa had identified it for her. They sit with their shoulders pressed against one another and their sides equally void of space between them watching the moon slowly rise into the darkening sky. Clarke can feel each breath that Lexa takes as her Omega basks in the closeness and the pleased scent drifting off of Lexa’s wolf.

 

“You like the Commander’s garden, sha?”

 

Clarke chuckles and nudges Lexa’s shoulder lightly with her own. “To say the least. _Sha_ , I like it.” She turns and places a grateful kiss on Lexa’s cheek and smiles as the Alpha flushes under the small attention. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It makes seeing it that much more special that you have – it feels like it could be our place, you know?”

 

Lexa’s fingers halt their journey through her hair and the Alpha seems to be pondering her words in the stillness. 

Sensing that she must have said something too forward, Clarke dips her head into view to attempt to meet Lexa’s eyes. When she gains the older girl’s gaze, Lexa’s wolf is emitting anxiety and her eyes are tinged with a nervousness that seems out of place on the normally composed Alpha.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Clarke’s voice is soft and placating. “I love the garden, Lexa – _really_ I do. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”  

 

Lexa swallows audibly and nods in acknowledgement. “It is one of the unknown places I can come to be alone - to be _Leksa_ if only for a short time. It  has become of my favorite places in Polis.” The Alpha’s voice is not back to its normal tonality but at least Lexa is speaking in actual words.

 

“I can see why.” Clarke offers the girl a wide smile and teasing eyebrows. Her Omega unconsciously releases a light flow of calming pheromones and for once she's happy for the reaction. Lexa’s nose flares and the Alpha seems to relax a bit after a few deep breathes of Clarke’s scent.

 

Lexa's voice is reserved when she speaks. “Kostia introduced me to this place.”

 

Immediately Clarke stiffens. Her wolf abruptly reeling back and retreating from the mention of the other Omega with a snarl. She can feel the tell tale heat of irrational jealously pumping through her – courtesy of her traitorous heart.

Lexa must notice her change in demeanor. The Alpha has probably noticed the fluctuation in her scent as well – she still doesn’t have that aspect of her wolf under control; her emotions are on vibrant display for anyone with a nose. Lexa shifts slightly away from her and Clarke feels her Omega whine at the loss.

 

_Great! Now I’m irritable, jealous AND insecure._

She swallows and puts on her best ‘I’m okay’ face with her hands clasped over her bent knees. Her smile feels artificial and tight on her lips. What does she say to Lexa’s admission? What can she say without sounding like _that_ person in a relationship? _“I’m so grateful you showed this garden to me after sharing it with another Omega that I’m pretty sure still has feelings for you.” or “That’s fantastic, Lexa. I’m so happy you two bonded over this incredibly romantic view.” or even better “Ah, so this can’t be our place because it’s already yours and Costia’s.”_  

Clarke groans internally and drops her head onto her knees. Fuck. She’s the jealous bitch. She doesn’t know what to say. She’s incredibly embarrassed of herself for feeling so intensely insecure over a simple sentence. Lexa is allowed to have a past. Her Omega instantly growls against this train of thought, _not if that past includes Costia._

 

The light touch of fingers tracing the shell of her ear and combing through her hair finally coax Clarke from the hiding place of her knees. She turns her face towards Lexa with a crestfallen expression.

 

“I did not mean to upset you, Klark.” The Alpha’s voice is achingly gentle. “I merely did not wish to withhold the truth.”

 

The Alpha’s sensitivity almost makes it worse. “It’s alright Lexa. I’m fine. Seriously, I don’t know why I’m reacting this way.”

 

 _Yes, you do_ , her head and heart poke nastily at her. Clarke growls internally at them both. Lexa looks at her as if she can see through her words.

 

“Kostia will always be an important past of my past.”

 

Clarke averts her eyes and nods, moving to sit up to turn her head so she can collect herself before facing the Alpha again. She had had a theory about Costia’s attitude towards her as Heda’s claimed mate since their first meeting and now having it confirmed to her face has transformed into two separate monsters that she isn’t prepared to handle in this moment.

 

Lexa’s fingers stop her chin from drifting away. Against her better judgement, Clarke allows the Alpha to move her face back towards Lexa’s. She keeps her eyes shut as her breath comes up a bit short in her tightening chest. _Fuck, I’m going to cry. Not now, please not now._

As if hearing her internal dialogue, she feels the beginnings of tears prickling at the corners of her eyes to torment her. Her Omega whimpers with her.

 

“Klark, ai niron (Clarke, my loved one).” Lexa’s quiet voice is pleading for her to open her eyes. She can’t.

 

“Ai skaifaya, _beja_ (My star, please).” Fingers ghost over her jaw and down the sides of her face.

 

Sucking in a deep breath and inhaling a burst of soothing Alpha in the process, Clarke opens her eyes and feels her breath stutter in her lungs all over again.

Lexa is almost nose to nose with her, the deep viridian of her gaze shifting into light tints of turquoise and jade as the moon’s light shines down through the willow’s branches. Her soothing touches do not stop as the Alpha brushes her knuckles across her jawline.

 

“Kostia is an important part of my past, but _you_ are my future, Klark. I am _yours_.”

 

As if a dam has burst inside her wolf, Clarke launches herself at Lexa, whimpering as her mouth finds the Alpha’s. She cups Lexa’s face and pulls the girl into her as her fingers slide into soft brunette waves. She kisses Lexa like she can’t breathe without her. She kisses Lexa as if she stops the press of her lips against the Alpha’s she may just cry and asphyxiate anyway.

 

Lexa doesn’t stop her or calm the flurry of her desperate passions. The Alpha moves with her and meets each kiss with equal fervor, only stopping to change the angle of their meeting or to nip at her lips and chin.

Finally breathless and much less frantic, Clarke brushes her lips over the Alpha’s in a gentle sweep as she moves her attention to Lexa’s defined jaw and up to her ear. The Alpha purrs as Clarke’s fingers scratch lightly against her scalp.

 

“I’m glad you chased after me, Lexa. I’m glad that you caught me.” Clarke has no idea where she was going with this confession but the words are tumbling from her mouth in a jumbling haste to express herself. She can’t stop it. “I don’t know where I would be – what I would have done if you hadn’t. I just—I’m glad it was you—that I have you. That—”

 

She shudders out a breath and barely manages a whisper. “That you’re mine.”

 

Lexa pulls back and her eyes snap to fix on her own – green flicks back and forth over her face as if searching for the sincerity of her words. Clarke understands; just because Lexa has admitted she belongs to Clarke does not mean the Alpha expects the sentiment returned back to her. She looks at Lexa with a nervous vulnerability in her gaze and waits. The Alpha smiles and tilts her head slightly to brush their lips together.

Clarke hums as her wolf purrs anew and leans into the Alpha, pressing her mouth firmly against Lexa’s in a proper kiss. She nips the older girl’s lower lip and holds it firmly between her teeth for a moment before moving back and resting her head against Lexa’s shoulder. The Alpha’s chest picks up into another round of soft cadences as Lexa wraps her arm around Clarke’s middle and rests her head gently against the Omega’s hair. Her fingers sift through strands of gold as the stars begin their nocturnal dance above them.

 

“I am glad it was you as well, Klark. That you are mine.”

 

 

  **TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I did use an 'Incredibles' reference. I love it and it's staying.
> 
>  
> 
> Written to:
> 
> 'California Dreamin' ' by Sia
> 
> and
> 
> 'Colors' by VERITE


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